Intentions
by ABitOfRomance
Summary: Heroes, lovers...liars. Just a few words to describe Dr. Carlisle Cullen and his wife, Esme, who have prided themselves with being the best, both in their careers and their personal lives. The only catch is they're hiding something from the other. They seem like the world's greatest couple to Bella, their surrogate, but will everything come undone because they want a baby? (Human)
1. Preface

"What would make you happy?" Carlisle Cullen asked of his newfound wife hugging her from behind. He breathed in and smelled her shampoo and perfume. He lost himself in the touch of her skin beneath his fingers and the feel of her silky, waved hair.

"I am happy. I'm always happy when I'm with you," she smiled.

"What would make you happier?"

"Carlisle, this is the happiest time of my life, but something that would make it better? Do you remember when you told me that if you ever had a son you would name him after your father?"

"Yeah?" He asked wondering where the conversation was going.

"I know that would make you happy. Carlisle, I want a baby. I want to be a mother. I used to dream about being a mother since I was just a little girl, to have and hold someone that would completely belong to me."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure about anything, except maybe you," she turned her body to face him, just then, a lopsided smile graced Carlisle's face. Esme knew that face well when he was planning something.

"Well, then let's get started right now," he stated his intentions as he lifted her from the kitchen floor with ease and into his arms.

"Wait, what about the food?" She laughed as he kissed her neck leaving little, red marks. He pushed the cutting board and knife away using the hand that did not explore Esme's body and lifted her into the countertop.

He trailed his kisses from her neck to her lips where she invited him in. She explored his mouth with her tongue as he tilted his head one way and she lifted her's the other. She brought her hands to his head and pulled at his hair bunching it in her fists. She pulled him closer as he felt her body with his exploring hands. He rubbed his sex against her's and she felt the urgency through the denim of his pants.

"I can't wait…" he whispered when they needed to catch their breath. His voice had gone husky and just the mere sound sent euphoria throughout Esme's body.

"The food…"

"To hell with it," he said as he assaulted her lips with another kiss. Esme ground her body against his and just the feeling of being in his arms made her orgasmic. He lifted her from the countertop and carried her from the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the master bedroom.


	2. Isabella

_18 months later…_

He laid on top of her and ate hungrily at her neck. They had just come back from a fundraiser for _The Boys and Girls Club of America_ to which the Cullens were generous donors. Esme's black cocktail dress was strewn on the floor along with her purse, the contents within spilling near the front door as she dropped it. Neither minded that she still wore her heels, and truth be told, her husband liked it.

Carlisle's dinner jacket was thrown atop the ottoman at the foot of the bed along with his white button-up and the accompanying bowtie was on the floor a few feet away. He kicked off his shoes and had no sense of spacial awareness so the question as to where he'd taken them off was best saved for another time.

"What's the matter?" He asked as she stopped reacting to his touch. When she didn't answer, he tried again, "Esme, what's wrong?"

She shifted her weight, sliding him off and sat up. She let tears fall she didn't know she was holding and wiped them away before her husband could see.

"Honey, please, tell me?" He offered as he sat up with her and placed loving hands on her shoulders to ease the vigorous shaking that came with the tears.

"I…just…" she tried between sobs, "I just…I know…that it isn't…" she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence for if she did, it solidified her saddest fear—Esme would be unable to bring the child to term. She would never feel as her body grew and the child inside fluttered around and kicked for the very first time. She would never know how much a mother could truly love her child when said child was finally born. She would never know what it was like to have the child _need_ her as the newborn suckled at her breast.

She would never hear the cries in the middle of the night, she would never hear the laughs during the day. She would never see the baby's albeit clumsy steps for the very first time, she would never hear their first words.

She would never see the child off at school on the very first day of elementary and she would never pay witness to their high school graduation. She would never see them off at collage or see them get married or see her child have children and make a family of their own…

Carlisle wanted for nothing if only to see his beloved Esme smile. That's why they were so intent on having a child in the first place. They had tried time and time again to get pregnant but for whatever reason, the egg wouldn't attach. His wife had always told him that she wanted children, as did he, but every time, her body would reject the embryo and every time, it broke her heart.

He knew she was not to blame, having a child was difficult but he didn't know if she felt the same way.

"Honey, please don't cry. I know it hurts."

"I don't think I could do this again, set myself up for something I know is going to fail. I just know I'm going to lose this one too and I can't go through that again. _I can't,_ " she explained.

"This is what you wanted."

"No. I wanted children not _this._ Not a broken heart every time I'm denied the only thing I've ever wanted."

Carlisle held her closer and let her cry into his shoulder. He ran his fingers through her hair and whispered comforting words in her ear of how much he loved her.

"I know sweetie, I know…" he whispered, "I still love you no matter what."

"Some people aren't meant to be mothers…I can't risk it…"

"Oh honey, that's all there is is risk. You just have to take a chance sweetheart or you're going to miss out on all the great things. Esme, you deserve all the great things. Do you hear me?"

His words did nothing to sooth her, they were just words. A few minutes later, a light flickered in Esme's head.

"You know, we could try something else," she told him as she wiped the tears and snot off her face.

"Like what?"

"A surrogate."

"A surrogate?" He asked, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah, it's obvious that I can't have kids but maybe someone can have the baby for us."

"Are you sure? I mean a surrogate…" he contemplated the last words that escaped his lips.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she told him with trace reluctance. Carlisle laid Esme on the bed and held her in his arms. She traced lines on his midsection as he kissed her hair. Neither spoke but both knew what the other was thinking.

Esme was right. Then again, being the woman of the house, she always had to be. Even if they were to have a child via a surrogate, they need not have decorated a nursery. They both had already done so when the child Esme carried inside was thought to have a secured future until she was born. Unfortunately, like all the rest, little Rosalie had been lost.

Since then, the unisex nursery sat unused and unentered for husband and wife kept the door closed, a door they fear would never be opened again.

The next morning after unrestful nights of sleep on both parties, Carlisle groggily pulled himself from the bed and walked into the bathroom. He stripped himself of his clothing and stepped into the shower.

When he finished, he stepped out. As he wiped the steam off the mirror, he thought about what Esme had said the night before.

 _A surrogate…_

After dressing himself, he stepped out of the bathroom to find his bride was no longer in the bed, only a mess of sheets and rumpled pillows. He walked down the stairs and smelled the inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee. He walked into the kitchen to fetch himself a cup and found Esme sitting at the island on her laptop nursing her own morning beverage.

"What about her?" She asked still looking at the screen. She slid her reading glasses off her face and looked at her husband.

"Who?" He inquired.

"I've been looking online for surrogates and I think I've found the perfect one. She lives just on the other side of town, unmarried, left college, and prefers not to be in the child's life."

"Who is she?" He asked coming to stand behind her and read over Esme's shoulder whilst sipping at his cup.

"Her name is Isabella Swan. No criminal record…"

"She sounds perfect."

"I'll call the agency later on today and set up a meeting."

"Okay, I've gotta get to work," he said kissing her on the cheek, "I love you."

"I love you more," Esme smiled knowing, one way or another, she was going to be a mother.

"No you don't!" He yelled over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Yes I do!" She answered back as she heard the doorknob click. Esme felt in her heart that this woman, this Isabella, would be the perfect woman to carry their child if she couldn't do it herself.

She read the woman's profile for the third time while finishing her cup of coffee and when she was finished, showered, dressed and went out to a meeting her most recent clients had set up for their new home.

Esme was an interior designer and took pride and joy in her work. She loved to see her clients' faces when they walked into their new or redesigned homes. It brought her a sense of smug self-satisfaction knowing she was good at what she did because she was. She came highly recommended if the clients were fortunate enough to hire her.

* * *

"Hello, I'm calling about a surrogate that I saw on your website."

"Please hold while I connect you," the phone operator said in a boorish tone of voice. Esme continued to hold the phone to her ear as she heard the line ringing. After nearly ten minutes someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hi. I'm calling about a surrogate that I saw on you website?"

"What is the surrogate's name?"

"Swan. Isabella Swan."

"Would you like to set up a meeting?" The operator asked as Esme heard the sound of fingers flying across a keyboard on the other end.

"Yes please."

"Okay, well, Miss Swan is out of town for a few days, but it says here that she should be back on the eleventh and I can set up a meeting for the fourteenth at 2:30."

"That sounds perfect," Esme smiled until her cheeks hurt.

"Now, I just need to ask a few questions," the operator continued before Esme could agree, "What is the address for your current residence?"

"118 Stevens Drive."

"Are you currently single or married?"

"Yes, married."

"Do you or your significant other have a criminal history?"

"No," the hopeful mother-to-be answered.

"Okay, thank you."

"Should I expect Isabella by the fourteenth then?"

"Yes, we will have someone drop her off."

"Thank you," she said as she pushed the button to end the call and made a beeline to call Carlisle's cellphone.

* * *

It was the evening of the thirteenth and Esme sat on the love seat reading a dark atmosphered book with a glass of wine that made her insides warm and her head a bit fuzzy on a small table near the couch. She waited for her husband to come home from the hospital where he worked as a doctor.

Her reading passed the time and kept her mind occupied from the nerves of meeting their potential surrogate. She took a sip of the wine and continued on:

 _'_ _"Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own free will!" He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone. The instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed cold as ice, more like the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said._

 _'_ _"Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring!" The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking. So to make sure, I said interrogatively, "Count Dracula?"'_

Just then, she heard a clicking noise at the door, as the key left it's knob, she set the book down, the covers up as to not lose her page and slid her glasses off her face. She walked over to the door to greet her husband.

"Honey? I'm home!" Carlisle called from the door. She stood on the toes of her feet and brought a chaste, yet loving kiss to his lips.

"Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring!" She exclaimed in her best Transylvanian accent.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face and a shake his head in his inability to understand.

"I was just reading. How was your day?" She asked back in her normal tone of voice.

"Same shit, different day. Nothing of note to report boss. What's for dinner?" Carlisle peeled off his outer most layer and hung it on the coat rack near the door to dry. The weather had been pouring rain nearly all day and one had to battle the elements just to reach one's car and live through the apocalyptic winds to reach one's home.

"Pork chops and macaroni."

"Great, I'm starving."

When they both sat down for dinner, they ignored the highchair for a baby in the broom closet though they each passed it nearly three times to set the table.

"How do you feel about tomorrow?" Carlisle asked cutting his chop and taking a bite after dripping it into a small bowl of applesauce.

"I'm excited, terrified. It's just one more night, less than twenty-four hours until I meet the potential mother of _my_ child."

"If she does agree, you will still be the mother of that child. The baby will still look to you in times of distress and need, you _are_ it's mother."

"I just wish it didn't have to be so complicating," she told him as he reached for her hand. He brushed his thumb against the back and felt her wedding ring on her left ring finger.

"I know honey, I know. Think of it like this, all of the best things in life are complicating, that's what makes them so much more incredible."

"Your going to make an amazing grandmother some day," she teased.

"No, you are. So help me, as God as my witness, I'm going to make you a mother even if I have to steal a baby from the hospital and move to a new country." They both shared a sorrowful laugh out of nerves and if they didn't, the alternative was crying.

The couple awoke the next morning to the sun rising in the east as it peeked through the drapes left ajar as the window was opened slightly. Carlisle could never sleep unless the windows were opened just a little, for he feared stuffy rooms as he suffered from a severe case of claustrophobia. Esme knew this as he had told her and no matter how cold the midnight air was, the window was left open and she opted to cuddle up closer to Carlisle or grab another blanket from the closet just down the hall.

The morning air was crisp and cool as it pulled at the heat of her face her body gave off. The weather, it seemed, completely shifted from last night's haunts as the lightning from the storm cracked and set the dark night ablaze even just for a second. It was the morning after the storm. From what she could see, the autumn frost bit at the bottom corners of the window as the sun set it ablaze. As she stretched her arms, Carlisle stirred in the bed and reached for Esme's side of it. When he found she was not there, he pulled his head from the pillow and looked at the sitting figure before him.

She turned back and bend over, greeting his morning with a quick kiss, "Honey, it's time to get up. Today's the day."

"I know," he sighed.

"What's the matter?" Esme asked turning back to her husband.

"I just hope she picks us. I hope she understands how badly we want this."

* * *

Esme paced the area of the living room, biting the nail of her thumb. It was nearing the time she and Carlisle were to meet Isabella and she was dreadfully nervous. Carlisle sat on the couch watching her walk back and fourth until he could take it no more.

"Esme, you need to calm down."

"I am calm," she said with her thumb still just on the outside of her mouth. She looked at the clock for nearly the dozenth time and read the numbers again.

 _2:38_

"What if they can't find the house?"

"They'll be fine," he assured. Just then, they heard a car pull into the driveway. Esme ran up to the window to inspect the car and when the door opened she saw a woman more beautiful than the pictures could ever do justice. Carlisle stood just behind her and watched as they walked up the steps and toward the door.

He found the woman, Isabella, to be pretty, not beautiful, but also not ugly. Her hair was long and dark as it waved in the wind down her shoulder blades and ended in the middle of her back. Her skin was of a pale pallor while her lips were thin and pink.

The door bell rang and both looked at each other, their eyes nearly bulging out of their heads in anxiety. They nearly tripped over each other as they raced to the door to greet their guests.

"Are you ready?" Carlisle asked before opening the door.

"No. Open it."

He did as told and they both put on the facade that they were confident as ever.

"Hello," Esme greeted with a smile stepping forward, "You must be Isabella."

"Hi," she said as her and Esme shook hands.

"It's nice to get to meet you finally. Isabella, this is my husband, Carlisle," Esme said indicating to the man that stood behind her as placed his hands on her shoulders as a physical sign of companionship.

"Hello Isabella," he said curiously looking her over. The woman before him was at a loss for words. She didn't know what to say. He was about a foot taller than her only because she wore converse sneakers instead of something more feminine. His blonde hair was plastered atop his head in a way she found alluring. His eyes were light green and felt as though she might lose herself within them if she were not to break the silence that fell between them soon. His face was symmetric, his jaw was strong, his face was clean shaven. His straight nose sat atop blindingly white teeth that showed a smile of comfort for she was a blizzard caught by the sudden sun.

She looked him over, finding the rest of his body exciting as well. He was of a medium stature, not short but not tall. His shoulders were broad, his button up was covered with a warm, soft looking sweater vest accompanied with a brown belt and faded blue jeans. To tie together the rest of his attire, he wore an old pair of sneakers showing off his youth and vitality.

Isabella liked what she saw in this man.

"Hi, call me Bella, everyone does," she smiled brighter than the one that barely graced her face when greeting his wife.

"Please, come in," Esme said, extending her hospitality, for it was one she held high upon a list of things. Isabella and the person who was of little note in this ordeal walked in and looked about the house with a gaping mouth.

Esme took a sense of pride in this as she watched their faces. Their eyes gleamed at the extravagance and lavish of the primarily blue fine home furnishings. Isabella liked the well lit interior as the rooms mostly held natural lighting.

Led by Esme, they walked into the living area and each seated themselves on the chairs near a large fireplace that went unlit.

"You've got a really nice house," Isabella said looking at Carlisle. Her eyes never left his frame for she feared he was merely an illusion.

"I would like to think so, after all, Esme is an interior designer," Carlisle told her seating himself on the couch whereas Isabella sat in a chair just to the side.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" Esme asked completely unaware of Isabella's stare at her husband.

"Water would be just fine, thank you," she said finally pulling her eyes away from the man that sat before her. As Mrs. Cullen walked into the kitchen, Bella's stare pierced into Carlisle, making him slightly uncomfortable as he silently prayed for his wife's return.

"So, how long have you two been married?" The potential surrogate asked.

"We've been married just under two years but we've known each other for nearly seven."

"Yeah, he was my doctor when I took a nasty fall rock climbing and broke my leg," Esme said returning with two glasses of ice-water in hand. She gave one to Isabella and the man who clearly worked for the family planning center.

"And we would have been married a lot sooner if she'd said yes," Carlisle joked as Esme had come to sit next to him.

"I had to be sure you were the one."

The couple shared a smile as Bella watched the scene before her in envy. She wished James was as gentle with her as Carlisle seemed to be with Esme.

* * *

 _A few weeks later…_

"Okay, your going to feel a little stick," the nurse said looking over between Bella's legs and the fold of cloth covering her sex. Esme stood next to her surrogate holding her hand. The two woman looked at the monitor and watched as the tip of the needle punctured the outer rim and leave the now fertilized egg.

Bella breathed in as she felt the needle leaving her body and instinctively held Esme's hand tighter. The mother of the child that now grew outside of her body petted Bella's head.

"You know, when parents talk about the time their child was conceived it always starts out on a wedding night or a date but this, this is when I became a mother. Thank you, Bella. I can't tell you how grateful Carlisle and I are to have you."

"I'm happy to make the two of you happy. I know how badly you both want a baby."

"I'm just grateful you chose us."

"We chose each other," Bella smiled.

The nurse stood and folded the cloth down, "You were amazing. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Bella and Esme answered together, the latter beaming with pride and joy.


	3. Edge of Ecstasy

"It really and truly was incredible Carlisle. I wish you could have been there," Esme beamed with joy.

"I know, I wish I was too, but you know how it is at the hospital," he said reluctantly.

"Yeah," she sighed happily but tired, "I know. Bella did wonderfully."

Carlisle's cellphone rang just as he climbed into the bed next to his wife. He picked it up off of the nightstand and read the caller I.D..

"Who is it?" Esme queried, looking away from her laptop as she eyed him over her bifocals.

"It's Bella," his brows knitted together, "Hello?" He asked, holding the phone to his ear.

"Carlisle?" Bella asked, her nose sniffling and her voice hoarse.

"What's the matter?" He demanded at the sound of her voice. Esme listened intently as best as she could only hearing the mumbled voice on the other end of the phone line.

"I…it…was…" she tried.

"Bella, honey, you need to calm down. I can't understand you."

"What's wrong?" Esme whispered. Her husband shrugged his shoulders not understanding the dilemma himself.

"I don't know," he spoke silently holding the phone away from his mouth.

"It…I didn't know who else to call. I'm sorry…" Bella's voice broke into a full on sob as she apologized.

"Bella, it's alright. Now, you need to take a deep breath, I can barely understand you," Carlisle persuaded though Bella would do anything he asked of her. He heard the audible sigh and after a few moments, asked again, "Bella, can you tell me what's wrong?" He asked, looking at his wife with worry written all over his face.

Esme closed her laptop but left it within the incline of her legs as her feet rested upon the bed making a tripod for the device.

"He tried…" she sighed again, "he tried…he was going after me. I had to get away so I ran outside…" Bella held the phone to her ear with shaking hands as she felt a new wave of tears burn her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

"Who? Stay where you are. I'm coming over. Where are you?"

"No! Please, I'll be fine," she argued quickly.

"You don't exactly sound fine, please, Bella let me help you."

"Okay," she agreed, "184 South 6th Street," Bella told him and hung up the phone. Carlisle shot out of the bed and jumped over to his dresser to grab a pair of old, frayed jeans and a zippered sweater.

"Where are you going?" Esme furrowed her brow.

"Call the police," he urged, ignoring her question, "184 South, 6th Street," he said, repeating the series over in his head.

"She needs my help…" Carlisle told Esme still whispering the numbers.

"Is there something I can do?" She asked as she grabbed her cellphone off of the nightstand and yanked the charger out of the input. Her brow wrinkled with worry for the poor girl.

"I don't know," Carlisle said with uncertainty, he crossed the room and caressed his thumb between Esme's perfectly shaped eyebrows. "Don't do that love. It'll be okay. We'll figure out what to do when I figure out what the hell is going on."

Carlisle replaced his thumb with his lips and walked surely but swiftly out of the bedroom, down the stairs and out to the garage. He jumped into his car and pushed a button to roll the garage doors up. He reversed out of the lot and sped down the street as fast as he could not caring about the speed limit.

When he reached the nearest red light, he set his phone to give him directions for the quickest way to find Bella. He worried for her as he sped by lights that blinded him in the darkness of the night.

When he reached several red lights, he tapped his foot on the gas pedal in haste. Carlisle thought of the girl, barely a woman by any means and the child, _his child_ , she willingly carried. They were supposed to be protected, safe, and out of any harm's way.

He did not take notice as the houses became less and less grand, they began to have shabby exteriors, bits of garbage blew in the wind on the sides of the roads as opposed to his neighborhood. He did not take note of the sound of glass breaking as the intruders sneaked in the dead of night and dogs barking as a result.

The buildings gradually became run-down the further he ventured. Carlisle was in the slums of Forks, Washington and none of this did he notice until he was nearing the address of Bella's home and was flagged down by a police officer.

Carlisle put his car in park but left the engine running. He stepped out and asked the officer for Isabella. He was led by the officer near several police cruisers, the lights flashed in the darkness, neighbors looked out of doorways and windows, watching the spectacle. Then they finally reached the back of an ambulance with the back doors wide open.

She sat with her head lowered and a starchy looking blanket draped over her shoulders as she held a piece of cloth to her face.

"Bella!" Carlisle yelled as he ran over to inspect the woman. She looked up and what he saw might have astonished him if only he was not a doctor. Her face was was littered with dark bruises and bloodied though the gashes would heal on their own. Her lip was split darkening her teeth with the crimson liquid. Her hair was pulled back but disheveled. She had scratches on her arms where the blanket did not cover. From what he could see, she leaned her weight to one side suggesting possible trauma to her hip or her lower back.

"What happened?" He demanded. Bella dropped the blanket and nearly limped into his arms. He held her closely, supporting her weight and looked around at the scene. Bella began crying again as a man in business attire walked up to them.

"Detective Seth Brantley," he said as he gave Carlisle a flash of his officer badge. "Do you know this woman?" He asked, his plump belly sticking out from the buckle of his pants with the brim of a hat atop his head nearly just as large.

"Yes. What happened?" Carlisle asked knowing he would get nothing from Bella.

"There was a domestic violence disturbance at this residence. We responded fully when Isabella here told us her husband was trying to kill her."

 _Her husband?_ Carlisle wondered.

"Can I leave with her?" He asked stupidly as he rubbed his hands against the back of Bella's arms. She took comfort in the feeling, getting lost within his warm touch despite the trauma she'd experienced.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid not. We'll have to take her down to the station for questioning."

"Okay," Carlisle sighed. He turned his attention from the officer and over to the off-white house with a muddy drive and unkept grass with patches of brown dirt unleveling the bit of land. He watched as the front door flung open with a tall, blonde haired man walking out in handcuffs accompanied by two officers. The man's long hair was held back with a band, his white shirt bloodied with blood that was not his own. From what Carlisle could see, the man's knuckles were darkened with bruises, an indication he was hitting something and rather hard at that. He walked out with no shoes on his feet and made eye contact with Carlisle.

The criminal studied the doctor's face, he watched his movements and how he held himself. He watched as the man held his wife and jealousy surged through his body. It boiled deep down from the very blood within his veins and pulsed throughout his body. His hands shook within the cuffs and rattled the metal.

"Don't leave me," Bella whispered, her words sinking into the cotton of Carlisle's sweater as she heard her apparent husband's walk but dared not look up.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured, hugging her tighter. Bella breathed in a shaky sigh as Carlisle rubbed soothing circles on her back.

The doctor felt a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the man get shoved into the back of one of the police cruisers and felt his penetrating stare through the glass of the car window.

"It's alright," he whispered when she broke into another fit of tears. She nodded her head in belief and when she calmed enough, he walked her to a black van led by Detective Brantley.

"Don't leave me!" Bella panicked as she climbed into the car.

"I'm not," he soothed, promise laced in his voice, "I'll be right behind you." Carlisle bit his bottom lip and looked at Bella with sorrowful eyes.

* * *

When he reached the precinct for special victims he waited nearly an hour, beating his foot against the floor in anger at whoever the man he saw was. As a distraction and for the passage of information, he reached for the phone in his back pocket and dialed Esme's cellphone. It rang only once until she answered.

"Carlisle!" She sighed in relief, "did you find her?"

"Yeah, turns out Bella's married and her husband assaulted her, though I doubt one can call a man a man after what he did to her," he said furiously.

"Where are you? Is Bella with you?" His wife asked urgently.

"We're at the special victim's precinct, she had to be taken in for questioning," he said running his fingers through his hair.

"Is she alright?"

Carlisle sighed unsure of how to answer, "I don't know. She seemed pretty bad when I saw her. She was begging me not to leave her."

"I'm glad you didn't."

"Esme, I need you to do me a favor. I really doubt Bella has a place to go right now, her house is basically a crime scene and I don't want her by herself, not right now anyway. Can you make sure the guest bedroom is ready before we head home?"

"Yes, I can."

"Thanks honey. I love you."

"I love you more," Esme said knowing it would bring a smile to Carlisle's face no matter how sullen.

"No, you don't," he continued the little joke they shared.

"Yes, I do, and Carlisle? Keep her safe."

"Yes, ma'am." He hung up the phone feeling just a little better and replaced it back into his pocket, Bella walked out headed near the elevators along with the detective. Her face betrayed no emotion as she hung her head. She slumped her back as her arms crossed themselves over her body. Carlisle stood and followed suit, coming to stand next to Bella.

"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" Detective Brantley asked when they reached the elevators.

Before Bella could speak, Carlisle answered for her, "Yes, she does. Unless, you have any objection?" Carlisle looked at Bella and she shook her head. The woman looked at him disbelieving as Carlisle reached around her shoulders and offered what comfort he could.

"I don't mind," she whispered, nearly inaudible to the noise surrounding the trio.

"Mrs. Swan, are you okay going with him?" The officer asked making sure she was comfortable. Bella gave no verbal reply and simply nodded her head.

"Okay, call me if you have anything more," the officer said handing Bella a card.

"Thank you, Detective," Carlisle said before leading Bella away. The officer watched them leave and knew that the man Bella was leaving with would put her out of danger's way.

* * *

The ride in the car was a silent one as the two left. Bella said nothing and Carlisle didn't want to push her lest she break. He was content, or as content as he could be, within the silence. It was not awkward and it was not uncomfortable. The only noise was the silent purr of the car's engine and each other's breathing as sprinkles of rain tapped the roof of the car.

Bella looked out the window when she finally broke the silence, "Why are you being so nice?"

"What?" He asked unaware of the sudden shift from silence to talking.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked again, her eyes glued to the outside world of the car. Bella was afraid to look at Carlisle for fear she would break into another fit of tears at what she could not have.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, giving me a place to stay? Staying with me?"

"You asked me to stay with you and Esme and I would feel more comfortable if you were in a place that is more…safer."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"I was just wondering."

They reached the Cullens' neighborhood and Bella looked around realizing the houses looked different at night. Everything looked different at night beneath the gleam of the moon as it peaked behind the clouds that trickled rain rather than the rays of the sun.

She dared a peak at the driver wondering what he looked like in what little light the moon offered. His head was lowered, looking at the road though the lashes of his eyes. Perhaps he was having difficulty seeing the road in the dark. His hair was parted to the right, the part reaching to the back of his head with the other side folding itself a few millimeters away from his face. She liked the way his hair naturally held itself without the product and gel he used during the day.

His hand squeezed the steering wheel of the car, turning his already pale knuckles whiter than paper. The sleeves of his sweater were pulled up just shy of his elbows, revealing his forearms and wrists. She noted he wore a thin band around one of them. It was completely black save for a bit of silvery metal that shined within the dim lighting of the car and matched perfectly with his silver wedding band on his left ring finger.

"What?" Carlisle asked, feeling Bella's stare. He looked at her and rather than turning her head to avoid his gaze, she looked at his bright eyes in the black.

"Nothing, just thinking."

They said nothing else as they reached the house, only then did Carlisle realize that in his urgency, he'd left the garage door open. He parked the car and shut off the engine making sure he closed the door. They heard the door leading to the house open.

"Dear, I'm so sorry," Esme said wearing a satin robe around her body pulling Bella into a hug. "I'm so, so sorry. Come, I'll show you where you'll be staying." She took Isabella by the shoulders and sent a meaningful glance to her husband.

Esme led Bella to the guest room closest to the Cullens' bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand was on with a fresh set of sheets already on the made bed.

"There's a set of clothes on the dresser for your use and there are towels in the bathroom."

"Thanks," Bella said meaning the word.

"I'll leave you to it," Mrs. Cullen left her new, and rather unexpected guest to her own devices and closed the door to the room for privacy. Esme walked downstairs in search of her husband and found him in the kitchen rummaging through the medicine cabinet.

He heard her footsteps as she came from behind and hugged him around the waist. He took her hands and interlocked them in his own.

"You should have seen her Esme. She was so scared…" Carlisle whispered mournfully.

"She's safe now. I was so worried about her."

"So am I," he breathed, "I want to take a look at her cuts. Can you get her?"

"Yeah, I'll be right back."

"It's okay, I can manage. It's late, you should be in bed. I'll be up there when I'm done."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

His wife kissed his shoulder and squeezed a bit harder in her embrace, "Good night, sweetie."

"Good night love."

She left Carlisle in the kitchen and walked up the stairs and knocked on Bella's door.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?" She answered opening the door.

"Carlisle wanted to take a look at the scratches. He insists that if he didn't look them over…"

"Okay," she cut the woman off before she could finish.

"He's downstairs in the kitchen. Good night, Bella."

"G'night Esme and thank you again."

The doctor's wife gave a simple nod of her head and left Bella to go to her own bedroom. She removed her robe and climbed into the bed, feeling her husband's absence without the heat from his body trapped within the sheets.

Bella walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Carlisle handed her a glass of water which she drank quickly realizing she was dehydrated from all the crying she'd done. He took the glass when she finished and replaced it with more water. She drank it more slowly and walked to the island.

"Okay, this is going to sting a little, just try and keep still," Carlisle said, leaning over Bella as she climbed on the island countertop. When she was settled, she let out a hiss as Carlisle dabbed at the cuts using a piece of gauze dipped in hydrogen peroxide.

"Sorry," he quickly said, removing the bandage from the deepest cut right alongside Bella's hairline.

"It's fine," she said looking him in the eye as he continued in his work. "It's doesn't hurt so much anymore…"

Carlisle's eyes were averted from her's as he watched what he was doing with the painstaking precision of a doctor. He wanted to ask what had happened but new better than to push the subject. He didn't mention the fact that Bella's was using his wife's own pair of pajamas as the smooth satin loosely draped over her body and ended at a her thigh. He wanted to ask, he felt the need, but the words went unsaid.

"How long have you been a doctor?" Bella asked.

"Nearly twelve years," he answered nonchalantly.

"What made you want to be one in the first place?"

"Well, a number of things."

"Like?"

"Helping people who need it. Getting to see patients recover from their injuries and lead full lives. Watching the stories of broken things mend, with a little help of course. Saving people and knowing that I did save them, that I helped them to live another day. It's all very satisfying."

"You must really like it then, being the hero…"

"I'm not a hero," he said quickly, "and I'm not ashamed to admit that. I'm just a man no different than any other man, but I do take pride in what I do," he said removing the bandage and after dipping it into the clear liquid, dabbed at another scrape. He looked into her eyes and smiled.

"You are different. You're better than they are."

Carlisle said nothing in return and continued on with his work. When he finished, he helped Bella off the countertop and cleaned the dirtied medical equipment.

"Thank you for everything."

"Don't thank me, it's all I could do for what you're doing for Esme and I. Good night Bella," he smiled shooting butterflies into Bella's stomach and making the tips of her fingers tingle.

"G'night," she returned the smile and turned her back to walk up the stairs.

 _What the hell are you doing Bella?_ She asked herself as she climbed to the second story of the house.

 _That man is married. That man has a loving wife and he_ loves _her…_

She closed the door to her bedroom and folded over the duvet. She climbed into the bed and snuggled the blanket up near her chin. A few minutes later she heard the shuffle of tired feet outside the door and a sigh. The muffled steps faded down the hall and ended with the click of a doorknob.

Bella laid in the darkness and thought about Carlisle. She imagined herself held tight in his embrace much like she was only a few hours ago. She wondered what he would feel like inside of her, pounding himself in and out bringing her to the edge of ecstasy only to stop and taunt her, driving her insane.

She imagined the sounds he would make and what he would sound like moaning her name. When she fell asleep, she dreamt of him.

 _"Oh, Bella…" he whispered with a shaky breath. He brought his lips to her's and took advantage of her as she lay helpless beneath him entrapped within the euphoria. He kneaded her breast with his hand as he held his weight with the other near her head. He slid himself out of her drenched folds and pounded back in sending an involuntary moan out of Bella's lips._

 _"I want to hear you scream my name," he demanded. His pace quickened along with the creak of the bed and the sound of the rustling sheets._

 _"C…carl…" she tried._

 _"I want to hear you!" He said, his ever quickening pace moving faster and faster._

 _"Carlisle! I'm going…" she couldn't finish the sentence as she screamed beneath him with ecstasy._

 _"Fuck…" Carlisle mumbled breathless reaching his own orgasm. When they both were spent, he collapsed on top of her, assaulting her lips with another kiss and rolled off to the her side._

The dream became so real it woke Bella with a start and mess in her underwear. She sighed, wishing the dream to life.


	4. My Fault

_Nearly an hour before…_

Carlisle walked down the stairs wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He walked into the kitchen to begin his morning routine of a cup of coffee and going off to work skipping breakfast. Most mornings he neglected the most important meal of the day because he normally went to work at least an hour before his shift to go over paperwork, but this morning was not like those mornings. He decided to call in to take a day off and rest, catching up on the sleep he missed the night before. He believed a tired doctor was just as harmful as a drunk doctor.

Esme was not yet awake so he pressed the start button on the coffee maker and opened his laptop to check his e-mails. There were several new ones, an advertisement for a shoe company that he posted as spam, a cellphone bill reminding him it would need to be paid soon, and a quick note from Dr. Gerandy touching base with him for one of the hospital's patients.

He replied to the e-mail from his colleague and when he finished, the coffee was done brewing. He poured himself a cup without the cream and sugar, drinking it completely black, just the way he liked it.

With nothing planned for the rest of the morning, he decided to cook breakfast for the two women of the house and himself. He decided on pancakes, which was easy enough, hash browns and sausages.

Humming to himself as he mixed the batter, he thought about Bella. He worried about her and his humming faded into nothing.

After he finished cooking the meal, he went to set the table with the desired amenities. When that was done, he walked up the stairs with a steaming coffee mug in hand the way Esme liked, and into the master bedroom. He stood at the threshold of the door and watched Esme's sleeping frame. Her hair was a mess on the pillow and knotted in several different places, her mouth was agape revealing the silvery metal retainer she wore after braces and she hogged the entire king sized bed, spread eagle, though her body was of a short stature. He chuckled to himself at the unappealing image and yet, he found that he loved her even more. Every day he woke up next to this woman, he fell deeper into the abyss that is love.

Setting the mug down on the nightstand, he went to close the window as the cold nabbed at the heat and pushed the floor curtains open, fastening them with a thin piece of fabric. When his morning chore was done, he came to sit next to her and caressed his hand on her cheek. She stirred in the bed at his touch and her eyes fluttered but did not open.

 _Maybe she's dreaming..._ he thought.

He bent down and kissed her where his hand had been only seconds before. When she did not wake, he waved the mug near her nose and let it waft in her face knowing, if his attention could not coax her, the coffee would be the only thing to pull her out of her self-induced coma.

"That's one helluva way to wake someone up," she mumbled, her voice laced and husked with sleep. Her voice startled him but he quickly composed himself.

"It's time to wake up sweetie," he smiled.

"But I was having such a good dream…" she complained and loathed at having to be shaken from the world of her sleeping mind.

"So I was right, you were dreaming. I made breakfast," he enticed, "and there's fresh coffee."

"That…" she thought, "sounds incredible."

"Here," he said, handing her the cup after sitting up in the bed. She took it and brought it up to her face, smiling as the scent nibbled at her nose. She let the steaming beverage touch her lips and her smile grew, the metal band showing across her white teeth. Carlisle always knew how she liked her coffee, a lot of cream and a lot of sugar, so much so, she couldn't taste the coffee anymore.

"Thanks," she said, whistling her 'S'.

"Come down when you're ready. I've got to wake up Bella."

"Kay," she said and stole another sip from the mug. Carlisle left her and walked out of the room and over to Bella's closed bedroom. He stood poised outside and brought his fist to knock on the door.

"Bella?" He called, "it's time to wake up. I made pancakes."

Behind the door, he heard something rather odd and frankly, took him by surprise. His guest's words were soft and murmured with sleep but he knew what he heard.

"Carlisle, I'm going…"

He furrowed his brow and brought his ear to the door, listening intently. He felt uncomfortable not giving the woman due privacy required by them being the opposite sex and also out of benevolence and grace.

"Bella?" He asked again, knocking on the door a second time and just a bit louder. He heard a sigh and the rustle of sheets like someone climbing out of the bed.

"Yeah?" She mumbled from behind the door.

"It's time to wake up. I made breakfast, just come down when you're ready."

"I'll be down in a bit," Bella told him, hoping to hell she wasn't talking in her sleep again. She dragged herself out of the bed and walked into her guest bathroom, finding simple generosities by the sink. A toothbrush, toothpaste and a comb. Ignoring all three until her later use, she reached for a set of towels under the open vanity and ran the water to take a shower.

She felt sweaty and unpleasant in more ways than one. She stripped out of the satin and stepped into the shower feeling the water as it poured over her with the steam quickly filling the room. She sighed as it did nothing to relieve her from the excitement of the dream.

When she finished rinsing herself off, she turned off the water and grabbed a white, fluffy bath towel from the rack and wrapped it around her frame. She dressed in the clothes she wore the night before and walked out of the bathroom with her hair dripping wet. Wringing it out, she piled it on her head in a messy bun.

She walked out and down the stairs into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Bella," Carlisle greeted.

"Morning," she smiled attempting to conceal her blush and the tight feeling in her stomach.

"Here," he said leading her to the dining table and handing her a stack of pancakes with a side of sausages.

"Thanks."

"Carlisle," Esme interrupted the exchange, "you'd better get to work before you're late."

"I'm taking a day off," he sighed, "Figured I could use a break. Besides Jass wanted me to take a look at something."

"Wh…who's Jass?" Bella asked, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Jasper. He's my younger brother," Carlisle explained.

"What did he want you to look at?" Esme asked curiously.

"Um…" Carlisle thought quickly, he inhaled and held his breath, the cheeks on his faced puffed like a balloon.

"Carlisle?" Esme asked again singsonging the question.

"It was…a…thingy…" he stuttered, relieving the pressure in his cheeks from the deformation.

"What 'thingy'?"

Bella watched the exchange and was surprised at no matter what it was, it seemed Carlisle could not manage even a quick lie if he wished.

"Just something from The Diner. You remember how he said that him and Alice were tearing it down?"

"Yeah?" Esme answered, wondering where on earth the conversation was leading.

"He just said he wanted me to take a look at something because he wanted me to have it," Carlisle's cheeks burned more red.

"What is it?"

"Uh juhhoolox…"

"A what?" She asked raising her eyebrows over the frames of her glasses.

"A jukebox…"

Esme let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. She didn't mind the music The Diner played and truth be told, she liked the throwbacks but if Carlisle liked the jukebox and decided to take it, she didn't know where it would go. More than likely, he'd put it in the living room and think nothing of it, but to her, it would throw off the feng shui of the entire room.

"Okay, I'd better get going…" she sighed. Slightly annoyed, Esme finished off her pancakes and took her plate to the kitchen sink.

"Thanks for breakfast sweetie," she said after kissing him on the forehead leaving his face somewhat sticky from the maple syrup.

"Esme," Carlisle looked at her, completely aware of her annoyance, and using his own napkin, wiped her lips, "you're lips are sticky…"

"Oh, sorry," she blushed and ran up the stairs before he could say anything more. Bella watched the couple before her, needless to say she was staring in jealousy of Esme. Bella always had a thing for pretty boys with blonde hair. She also stared because she wanted to know who the people were in relation to each other and how they interacted. She found it intriguing and she decided whether she'd chosen the right people to become more than willing parents to the child that grew inside.

She made her decision well. From what she gathered, they loved each other very much. She respected Esme and her choice of husband but she wanted to taste a sliver of his affections as well. She wanted to know what it was like to be romanced like a cheap love story and she wanted the affection to come from the man across the table sitting only a few feet away.

Bella and Carlisle were left alone at the table and ate silently until Bella broke it.

"I'll be out of your hair by the afternoon…" she mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Carlisle asked sipping on his blackened coffee while he read a section of the morning newspaper.

"I could stay with one of my friends for the time being," her words breathed out in a sigh, "I'm pretty sure Jacob is freaking out," she told him purposefully mentioning one of her guy friends though she hadn't even talked to him in several months.

Carlisle looked up from the paper and pointed his finger in the middle of a paragraph so he wouldn't lose his place.

"I won't hear of it and I'm sure Esme would do more than agree with me. No, Bella, you'll be staying with us for the time being until you can get back on your feet. It's the least we can do."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to be a bother," she told him, unable to meet his gaze.

"You could never be a bother," he said, leaving the paper and table, brushing past her shoulder in the process. Bella blushed as Carlisle took her empty plate and brought it into the adjoining kitchen.

"Carlisle?" Bella called.

"Yeah?" He answered as the water from the kitchen sink ran.

"If you _do_ want me to stay here, what about my clothes?"

"I didn't think of that," Bella heard behind the clank of dishes, "We can head over later on today after I actually bother getting dressed."

Bella smiled at his self-imposed snide comment as she looked out of the sliding door and at the patio in the backyard. The leaves were more green than yellow despite the late timing of the year.

 _Rich people grass never dies and of course they must be the only people in Forks to have a pool and guest house…_ she thought enviously.

"I'll be back down in about twenty minutes," Carlisle said coming from somewhere behind her. From the volume of his voice, he was quite a ways away.

"I'm not sure what Esme's told you but help yourself to anything in the kitchen and around the house. When we get your things, I'll show you to the guest house, but of course, if you're uncomfortable staying there you can always come back into the main house. I know this all might be a bit overwhelming and so if you need anything at all don't be afraid to ask either me or Esme. Okay?"

Bella said nothing but nodded her head and hid the ever-present turning knots in her stomach. Carlisle left her with a quick bow of his head with his hands behind his back. He ran up the stairs and into his own bedroom.

 _Poor girl…_ he thought bringing his thumb to his lips. When he opened the door to his shared bedroom, Esme was dressed and nearly ready to start her day. She sat at a dressing table and pushed one of her earrings into the lobe of her ear.

"What's wrong?" She asked taking in his reflection from the mirror as it was angled in such a way she could see him.

"It's about Bella. I just, I don't know…" he thought aloud, "I've invited her to stay with us until she pulls herself back together." Esme stood from the chair and walked over to him, closing the distance and wrapped her arms around his frame. Carlisle breathed in the perfume of his wife and rested his head on her's as he played with her loosely curled hair between the tips of his fingers.

"Carlisle," she mumbled against his chest, "sometimes you can't fix everything."

"I know, but I'm sure as hell going to try. You better get going. You'll be late," he said as she squeezed her arms around him a bit tighter.

"Have a good day," he told her.

"I'll try and you will too," she stipulated, "I love you."

Carlisle looked at her through his eyelashes, "I love you more," he said with sincerity.

"No you don't…" she mumbled kissing him.

"Yes. I do," he claimed.

* * *

Bella and Carlisle walked out to the garage and stepped into his black Mercedes. The car pulled out of the drive and began on their way to what Carlisle assumed to be Bella's home.

"Just take a left there," Bella instructed pointing at a stoplight.

"Okay, I might not have been paying very much attention to where I was going last night."

"I believe you and I was surprised you got there so quickly."

"I tried to go as fast as I could. You really scared me there for a second."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Carlisle asked.

"I don't know. I just…I just feel like it was my fault, you know?" Bella asked shifting in her seat. Carlisle stopped at the red light and turned his face to her.

"Look at me," Bella met Carlisle's gaze, their faces no more than one foot apart.

"It was not your fault. Do you hear me?" He asked sternly.

Bella nodded her head as he continued, "Now I don't know what happened and I'm not going to pry unless you want to talk about it, but whatever it was, I'm sure you're not to blame."

The red light switched to green but neither one of them noticed as they looked across the arm's rest of the car. Bella lost herself in his features, only then did she notice two birthmarks on his left cheek, one near the center and the other favoring the area near his nose.


	5. Suspicious Minds

Hello to all the readers out there wherever you are! I just wanted to remind you that there is a reason this fic is rated M and I don't just mean for a few quick kisses here and there. This chapter is very sexually explicit so proceed with caution!

If you like this fic, follow, favorite and review! It gives me motivation to write things that are meaningful and not just giving you a crapton of filler chapters.

Thanks for reading and tell me what you think! I love seeing feedback!

As always,

-Your daily dose of romance

* * *

After they'd stopped at Bella's home to grab a few of her belongings, they were off to meet Jasper. They drove to the inner city as the radio station they listened to played quiet music in the background overshadowed by big, heavy raindrops hitting the roof of the car.

It was always raining in Forks and one rejoiced when the clouds broke revealing a sun that seemed nonexistent to the inhabitants of the Washington suburb. When Bella was younger, no more than five years old, she'd forgotten what the natural color of the sky was due to the near constant overhang of grey.

"Bella?" Carlisle asked.

"Yeah?"

He inhaled a breath wanting to say what was on his mind but at the last moment decided against the idea.

"I…I should probably prepare you for Alice if she's there."

"Who's Alice?" Bella asked curiously.

"She's Jasper's wife and I love her like a brother-in-law should but…"

"But what?" Bella urged.

"She's a bit much to handle as opposed to Jass, he's the quiet one and she's…" he trailed off trying to find the best word that described Alice.

"Eccentric?" Bella offered.

"Yes! That's the perfect word for her. Other than that, she's harmless, in fact, she has really good people skills."

"She sounds like a nice woman."

"Oh she is, she's great and I can honestly say she's probably one of my best friends."

They pulled into the parking lot of a chrome one story building with a large clock on the front showing the exact time. Large windows paneled the front of the building revealing an old eighties type interior complete with booths of the same style and a counter with high-leveled stools.

The front of the building simply read 'The Diner' and if it were night, the building would have lit up with neon lights and reflected off the chrome nearly blinding the passersby but forcing them to look anyway.

"We're here," Carlisle explained driving into a parking space near the entrance. Before either could unbuckle their seatbelt, a man with shaggy blonde hair walked out of the small restaurant with a lopsided grin on his face. He looked ultimately harmless and was nearly as pale as the doctor.

"Brother, I was wondering when you were going to show up," he greeted pulling his brother into a hug when the older of the two stepped out of the car. The man was shorter and thinner than Carlisle but the resemblance was uncanny. Carlisle was more broad in the shoulders and heavier in the waist and hips as opposed to this man. Jasper's features were more angular and sharp as opposed to Carlisle's lean slightly roundness about him.

"Sorry, had a few errands to run. Jass, this is Bella," Carlisle indicated to the woman closing the car door.

"Well, hello miss," he acknowledged and gave a slight bow of his head like the older of the two, a mannerism they seemed to share.

"Hi, I'd ask if your name was Jasper but from the resemblance I could already tell," Bella smiled warmly.

"You have me at a disadvantage then. I have no idea who you are other than the name."

"I'm their surrogate. I just needed to grab a few things from home and decided to tag along."

"Oh, Esme had said something to the affect that her and my brother wanted a child."

"Well," Carlisle interrupted, "where is it?" He asked rubbing his hands together wanting to inspect the loot he'd happened upon.

"It's right inside. It's basically got all of the songs mom and dad used to play. I couldn't bare to part with it then I realized you love music almost as much as I do. I figured you might want it with you and your love of vintage."

"You know I only love the good music."

"Would you expect anything less? There's that and a few contemporary bands that kinda had to be in there. It's in pretty good condition, of course, you already know that."

"I believe you, the problem is if I do take it home I have no idea where it's going to go."

"Brother?" Jasper asked, leading them inside, "Esme asks, you wanted this. I had nothing to do with it," he backed out of the main eating area and stepped into a small room off to the side.

"Here's a few other records that were replaced," Jasper said when he returned.

Carlisle took them and flipped through reading the labels.

"How could you replace The King?!" He asked looking at the vinyl of 'Suspicious Minds'.

"It wasn't really popular."

"Kids these days have no taste. It's all about _'Hey baby pull me closer in the backseat of your car. Lemme bite your tattoo…'_ or whatever the hell they're listening to," he mocked.

"Geez," Bella began defending the younger generation, "for a man whose still trying his damn hardest to keep his youth, you have no idea what the 'kids' are doing these days, do you?" She teased.

"No idea," he answered truthfully, "I've always preferred vintage over modern."

"So, what do you think?" Jasper asked.

"I think," he glanced over to Bella who knew what he might say, and back to Jasper, "I think I'm in love with it. But of course, Elvis is going back in there."

* * *

After carefully shoving the bulking mass into the back of the Mercedes, Bella and Carlisle climbed into the car with the doctor driving and Bella in the passenger seat. Jasper drove in his own car, tailing his brother trying to protect his baby being adopted by his older brother. They reached the driveway of the house and since the damned thing was so heavy, they made a game-plan of how best to bring it inside.

Bella would open the doors to the house and shut off the security alarm with a four-digit passcode Carlisle had given her, while he and Jasper carried the jukebox into the house. They would set it in the living room against the furthest wall near the sliding doors that led to the backyard.

"I've got to get going Carlisle, Alice will be missing me," Jasper explained.

"No, stay. Have a beer, catch up," Carlisle enticed.

"I've really got to go, besides, I've got to drive. Maybe later on in the week, I'd say tonight but I'd prefer if Esme would not shoot me in the back," he teased. Jass knew Esme would be slightly annoyed with him despite the shared music tastes.

"Alright, we'll see you later," Carlisle sighed. He and his brother had barely seen each other since Jasper and Alice decided to tear down The Diner and build a new restaurant.

"Have fun with the new toy."

"Oh I will," Carlisle said with certainty.

"It was nice to meet you Bella and I hope my brother isn't too much for you to handle."

"I'll let you know, it was nice to meet you too," she smiled. Jasper left them and closed the front door.

"He seems pretty cool," Bella said, grabbing herself a glass from the kitchen cupboard and getting herself some water from the tap.

"Yeah, I suppose," Carlisle said from where the jukebox now stood in a discreet corner of the room. He plugged it into a socket on the wall and the old lights flickered to life. He fiddled with the dials and played the song that was most recently added to the playlist.

An electric guitar was the first noise to come from the old box followed by the first words of the song:

 _'_ _We're caught in a trap. I can't walk out…'_

Bella laughed from the brim of her cup as Carlisle turned around snapping his fingers and lip-syncing the words. He looked like a bad boy pulled out from the scene of an eighties movie with his old sneakers he seemed to love, a pair of faded denim jeans with holes worn at the knee and a black t-shirt with the faded band logo of Cheap Trick.

He danced over to her and held his hand out asking for her to join him. Bella set down the glass on the island and took it. He began to sing to her in a baritone voice hitting every note perfectly.

 _"_ _Why can you see, what you're doing to me?"_ He asked as he lifted his hand and twirled her around. He noticed she was stiff and slightly awkward. She stopped and Carlisle looked down at her with a questioning look.

"S…sorry. I can't dance," she explained, the tips of her ears burned red, the pigment traveled down to her face and ended at her neck.

"That's okay, I can. Just follow my lead," he coaxed and holding her by her hips, shifted his feet, Bella following suit.

"See?" He looked down at her with a quirked brow, "You're dancing."

Knowing Carlisle wouldn't let her fall and placing her trust in him, Bella let herself glide to the music. She brought her head to Carlisle's chest and breathed him in with a sigh. He smelled like old books and pencil shavings. It was an odd smell but she liked it and took comfort within the aroma.

 _"_ _We can't go on together with suspicious minds. And we can't build our dreams on suspicious minds…"_ he mumbled into her hair as he rested his cheek on top of Bella's head.

 _What are you doing?_ Carlisle asked furrowing his brows and continuing to sing the lyrics. They stayed like that, close, their only movements were their breathing and the shifting of their feet.

 _"_ _Oh, let our love survive, or dry the tears from your eyes…"_

* * *

It was just after ten o'clock as Carlisle turned from his own dresser and watched as Esme undressed near her's getting ready to go to bed. His wife felt his heated, penetrating gaze and turned to look at him, the full front of her body before his eyes.

"Like what you see?" She teased.

"Always."

Esme's hair fell into it's softly curled natural state down the middle of her back. Her skin shone a pale olive complexion within the dim lighting. Her breasts jutted out from her chest accompanied with a soft midsection. Her hips were curved suggesting a natural hourglass figure. He found he could only describe her as a goddess, sent from heaven to torment him.

He was truly and undoubtedly in love with her, from her little teases, to when she screamed at him when they agued, to the quiet pillow talk he enjoyed, even her cooking that only got better as time went on.

Her hand went up to a lock of her hair and she twirled in between her forefinger and thumb. She bit her bottom lip and gave her husband a quirked brow. He watched her, unable to move like her actions cemented his feet to the floor, his body became a statue and his eyes roamed examining every inch of the smooth skin he'd grown to know.

He knew where the spots were that made Esme moan in ecstasy and were she was most ticklish. He knew what she liked and what bored her. When he found himself again, he made a beeline for her, charging at her like an animal but when he got to her, his movements were slow and delicate.

He tilted her head up using his finger and thumb and brought them to her chin. He looked her in the eye and examined her face. He removed a stray bit of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Using the same finger, he brushed it against her cheek and sighed in bliss as he caressed her face.

Esme stood on her toes and placed an innocent kiss upon his lips. She fell back on her heels only for her lips to have a kiss on them as well as Carlisle returned the affection. He pulled away and held his face just millimeters from her's.

She could smell the aftershave on his face that he'd used that morning as the scent lingered on his skin. She kissed him again and shifted her weight back on to her toes, using unbalance as an excuse to snake her arms around his neck. Carlisle got the notion and held her by her hips and the small of her back.

She licked his bottom lip with her tongue begging entrance to deepen the once innocent kisses. He obliged and using his middle finger, teased Esme's back sending chills throughout her body.

Esme tugged at Carlisle's hair and he sighed into their kiss. She knew when it came to sexual intimacy, he was a bad man and in more ways than one but he would never do anything to hurt his love though they did push boundaries.

Her hands left his hair and their lips only pulled away so Esme could loosen the buckle of his belt and undo the button for his pants. She pulled his t-shirt over his head and brushed her fingers on Carlisle's chest. When he was completely undressed, she kissed him again.

Their mouths were a fiery dance of tongues and passion as Carlisle held Esme tighter and held her face close to his own. Her hands brushed the skin of his back and found their way to his bottom where she squeezed.

When the kiss broke as both needed air, their breathing was quick and loud. She kissed him once more and pushed him over to the bed and he fell onto it with a muffled thud. She crawled on top of him and smiled as she rubbed her nose against his own.

"You, my dear, are an incredible woman and even better lover," he mumbled. Esme let out a small giggle and Carlisle joined in. He let his hand caress her face as her head leaned into the touch.

She closed the distance from her lips to his own. Their hands roamed freely and touched each other in the way no one else could. Esme let out a quiet moan that was stifled by their kiss. Carlisle rolled over and flipped them so she was beneath and he was above.

When the kiss broke, he bit his bottom lip and examined Esme's body. His hand never left her face as the other traveled down and around. He knew she liked foreplay so he never rushed as his fingers traveled around her body. His eyes followed suit with his hand. When he reached her chest, his fingers walked up the mountain and teased her nipple. She let out a laugh as it danced before her, having a mind of it's own. The hand traveled down her midsection and looped around her naval. It traveled further still and slowly reached Esme's sex.

She closed her eyes and let out a gasp as her husband played with the folds. Carlisle turned his attention from his hand and to her face, watching her as she melted at his touch. Unable to resist, he kissed her and further sent euphoria throughout her body.

She grabbed his head and pulled it closer as he moved himself and climbed on top of her. She was ready and waiting as she felt his organ penetrate her own and they both let out a moan in ecstasy. Esme wrapped her legs around her husband and took her like no one else was able.

Slowly, he eased himself into her, their kiss never breaking. His movements were slow as he took his time reaching the length and pushed himself back inside. He held his weight on his forearms near her head, grabbing and tugging at her hair playfully. Carlisle trailed his kisses from her lips, down to her neck and finally reached her chest. He pulled and licked at one of her nipples knowing it was something that drove Esme insane while he played with the other between his forefinger and thumb. His hand traveled from her breast to her hip and squeezed knowing that it tickled her.

She giggled as one of her hands grabbed his head forcing it back up to her own and kissed his lips while her other hand trailed up and down his back synchronized with his movements leaving a trail of red marks from her nails.

"Carlisle…" she mumbled after the prolonged kiss broke.

"Yeah?" He whispered in her ear, his breathing was heavy and it sent chills down her body. He bit and sucked on her lobe as he inhaled a shaky breath.

"…uh…" was all she managed when his movements grew faster but only slightly. He chuckled into her ear, knowing she was going to say something but without an opportunity. They stayed like that for a while, neither wanting to break the intimacy, the nightstand lights were on and they looked at each other's faces remembering the moment.

Carlisle's hair had become disheveled and was no longer pushed back, it was tousled and messy as Esme played with it. Esme's lips were swollen and red from the kisses that never wanted to break.

When Carlisle knew Esme was on the edge of an orgasm, he would cease his movements completely. When Carlisle felt his own orgasm, he would stop as well and blush a deep red like Esme had only ever seen when they were being sexually intimate. They both enjoyed the moment and prolonged it as long as they where physically able.

"You are a bad…bad man…" Esme groaned.

"No, just an asshole…" he smiled and Esme laughed along.

Carlisle started moving faster, losing himself in the touch of the woman beneath him. She kissed him harder and moaned into his mouth as they tried to be quiet as possible knowing there was a guest in the house. Had Bella not been there, they would have been a bit more adventurous and quite a bit louder but they minded the guest just in the next room.

Carlisle slid himself out of his wife and plunged back in making both participants in the act delirious. His tongue became more frantic until he could no longer breathe and had to break the kiss.

To stifle her excitement, Esme bit the knuckle of her index finger as she came. Her breathing shuttered and did not return for some time, her toes curled and the tips of her fingers stiffened as she got the release she so desperately craved. Her back arched off the bed and that's when Carlisle reached his own orgasm as well.

He breathed in the scent of her hair and shoved himself into her so hard that she moved a few inches higher every time.

* * *

The next morning, Carlisle reluctantly pulled himself from his wife's arms after a passionate night of love-making. He was a doctor at Fork's hospital and was the best at what he did if only for his compassion and steady, sure headedness that did not come without practice.

He dressed himself as his wife, Esme, watched from the bed. He turned to look at her after reaching inside of his dresser to pull out a pair of khakis and into the closet for a button-up. He slid his feet into a pair of loafers and walked over to the bedside, his shirt still unbuttoned.

"I have to go," he whispered with reluctance in his tone. If he could have, he would spent the rest of the day and well into the night in her arms.

"I know," she pointed to her cheek asking for a kiss. He obliged and placed gentle lips on the apple.

"Go save a life," she told him as he stepped away.

He smiled and gave a quick nod of his head. He stood up and turned away only for Esme to grab a handful of his bottom. He gave a yelp and staggered a few feet away. He turned so quickly that he nearly lost his footing on a throw rug.

He laughed at himself, his laughter booming though the room with Esme joining in. When it receded, he looked at her with her messy bedhead, she wore no makeup, the only thing to cover herself was the linens of rumpled bed, and her smile.

She was beautiful.

He walked up to her with his best attempt at a reprimand and looked at her through the eyelashes of his eyes.

"Now, _Mrs. Cullen_ , I'd expect better behavior from the mistress of the house."

"Now, _Dr. Cullen_ ," she played on his words, "the master of the house had better get to work before he gets fired."

"They won't fire me, I'm too good at what I do," he said as he puffed his chest in self-righteousness stroking his own ego.

"Oh, I know you are," she answered meaning a completely different thing unrelated to work. He caught the glint in her eye.

"How could I ever leave you?" He asked more to himself than to her.

"You aren't. You're coming back. Now, get your beautiful ass to work before I have to smack it there."

"I'd enjoy that a lot more than you'd think, beats driving."

Esme let out a throaty chuckle as Carlisle climbed back on the bed and sat next to her brushing his hand on her thigh beneath the duvet.

"You are a beautiful woman, how did I ever manage to snag you?"

"I think it was your incessant begging to marry me."

"I only asked twice, it's not my fault you like to play hard to get," he smiled.

"Yeah, twice," she mocked. "Let's see, the time at the beach house," she began to count on her fingers, "the time on the ferris wheel, when we went to Isle Esme and the time in Paris on the Eiffel Tower."

"Yes, but you kept saying you'd think about it. I was just wondering when you made up your mind."

"When your an interior designer, you have to be picky."

"Really? I thought it was just because there were other people around and you didn't want to seem shabby."

"That too," she joked, "now you really have to go."

"Fine," he said in a mock attempt, "I'll see you later on, don't forget about the fundraiser."

"How could I? We've been planning it for weeks. I love you."

"I love you more!" He called as he walked away.

"No you don't!" She smiled as Carlisle closed the bedroom door behind him.

"Yes I do!" He singsonged as he walked down the steps.


	6. Absolutely Stunning

"Bella, Carlisle and I wanted to invite you to a fundraiser we're hosting for _Doctors Without Borders._ Would you like to come?" Esme asked Bella when the latter had come down for breakfast.

"Uh…where?" She asked pouring herself some cereal into a bowl that was left on the counter.

"It'll be here. It's just going to be some people from the hospital, coworkers, some friends, a few shareholders for other companies…"

"Is it formal?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?" The interior decorator asked taking sip of coffee and looking at Bella over her reading glasses.

"I don't have anything to wear," Bella answered as her face grew red in embarrassment. She stirred the cereal just to give her hands something to do as she tried to ignore the tips of her burning ears.

"We're roughly the same size, you can just borrow something of mine," Esme offered.

"Are you sure? I could just hide upstairs for the time being or something," Bella said feeling uncomfortable. The dress Esme offered would probably cost more than Bella's rent at the house she hated.

"Nonsense!" Esme exclaimed. "Actually, I have a dress that's a bit too small around the waist and a bit too tall for my height. I never had a chance to wear it." Just then, she jumped out of the seat, pulling Bella to her feet as well. She dragged her up the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Bella asked being led down the hall.

"I want to show you the dress!" Esme squealed in excitement. She pulled her tail into the couple's bedroom and Bella sighed in amazement. The house itself was incredible, the living area was breathless, but this room put everything else to shame. It was more elaborately decorated, the furniture looked soft and inviting, the pillows were fluffed and the linens white.

On the furthest wall was a vanity with a chair, the legs of the object twirled and twisted in such a way it suggested a solid liquid as the carving of the stained wood curled like the soft waves of an ocean. The desk itself contained articles of makeup and vanity drawers that more than likely held Esme's jewelry and products suggesting femininity. It was obvious that corner of the room belonged to the wife.

Bella took careful note of that particular set of furniture and turned her attention to the object in which a bedroom received it's namesake. The bed itself was large and white layered with soft ivory sheets. Above the article was a canopy and had it not been for the layout of the room, might have been considered in terrible taste but laced the room together perfectly.

Directly across the room from the bed was a small fireplace. It was clearly artificial by the perfect way the ever-present logs laid. On the mantel sat a single picture of Carlisle and Esme. They were dressed in wedding attire, Esme's dress being an obvious clue accompanied with Carlisle's baby-blue bowtie. Bella smiled at the outfit the doctor had chosen, she thought it made him look absolutely adorable.

On the last wall of the room were two individual doors. One was open and led to the bathroom that was just as grand as the bedroom and the other led to a walk-in closet. Esme opened the latter and walked in, flicking on the light.

All four corners of the smaller room were paneled with shelves, drawers and shoes. There were dozens of shoes, most of which were heeled while others were boots and some were flattened. A few of the cubbies contained Carlisle's shoes and above all else, was his old pair of vintage sneakers. They stood with all their glory for the entire world to see. The shoe was primarily black with a white sole lining and toe. The laces were white as well when Bella realized the brand of shoe.

 _Converse._ The same type of brand Bella sought comfort for her feet in, but like so many others, she replaced the inner sole as it offered no support. Carlisle had done the same as well.

Esme led Bella to one of the racks and reached all the way into the back. She pulled out a red cocktail dress that reached down to the floor.

"Esme," Bella gasped as she held the dress in front of her. "It's beautiful…"

"You're going to look gorgeous," Esme smiled. She sighed not out of envy of Bella but rather of tiredness. She'd noticed she was getting more tired more quickly as opposed to her normal fatigue.

"Esme, are you alright?" Bella asked the concern laced through her voice.

"Yeah, just a little tired. It's nothing," she brushed off the concern with a shrug.

"Are you doing anything today?" Bella wondered. "We could grab a coffee or something. I mean you'll drink the coffee and I'll get like…a smoothie or something."

"That sounds pretty good right now," Esme smiled. Bella noticed this, like she always seemed happy. She always joked and nothing seemed to really bother her. In fact, Bella noticed the smile was permanent, even when Esme's face was relaxed, her cheeks and eyes retained fine smile lines.

* * *

Carlisle looked at the Rolex on his wrist and read the time. He ignored the conversation about the small local band Esme hired for the fundraiser.

 _8:24…where is she?_ He wondered. He knew Esme had let Bella borrow a dress for the evening and he was anxious to see which one it was and he wanted Bella to meet some of the people the doctor worked with.

For then next few months, Bella was going to play a large, pivotal role in his life and he preferred to stop rumors about infidelity before they could begin. He knew what some thought of him, they thought he liked check out the local scenery when he left for work or medical conventions but he did none of it. He looked away from the conversation at hand and back to the house for nearly the twelfth time within the past half an hour. That's when he saw her.

The breath he'd been unconsciously holding in anticipation choked in his throat and he cleared it with a quick cough in his sleeve. He would have had a full on coughing fit but he didn't want to draw unneeded attention from a group of doctors, himself included.

The dress hugged her body in a suggestive way but was not undue. The bodice flowed down like a crimson waterfall to the grass beneath the dress Bella seemed to hover on. Her hair was left down and twisted and curled in on itself, parted in the middle to reveal a beautiful face.

A face that not five days ago was littered in bruises and cuts but they seemed to be healing and concealed well using a bit of makeup. He made a mental note that he would need to clean the small scrapes later on after the fundraiser. She was absolutely stunning but wore a look of discomfort. She had no place to put her hands so she folded them behind her back and unknowingly popped her chest out.

"Bella," Carlisle breathed walking over. He examined the dress and nearly tripped into her welcoming swell of cleavage.

"You look…" he began.

"Is it that bad?" Bella asked her face growing tomato red.

"No!" He said too quickly, "You look incredible," he smiled a crooked smile.

"Thanks…" she mumbled, her face growing ever more red in comparison to the dress. She bit her bottom lip and tasted lipstick.

"Come. I want to introduce you to a few of my coworkers," he said, stepping next to her and by the small of her back led them to the group Carlisle had left a few moments before. Little did Carlisle and Bella know that not thirty feet away, standing next to a few of her friends, Esme looked on with keen interest. She sipped the cocktail she'd ordered and played with the straw between her fingers, stirring the fruity drink.

"Guys, this is Bella," Carlisle introduced as he unknowingly still held his hand on the small of Bella's back. "Bella, these are a few of the doctors from the hospital: Brett, Johnathan, Lee and Nelson, be careful around him," Carlisle said, indicating to Nelson, "he likes pretty girls," he teased.

"Hello, young lady," the man said shaking Bella's hand in a firm grip.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you all, though I'm sure I won't remember your names; I've always been bad at remembering them," Bella blushed lightly feeling Carlisle's hand on her back. She was glad the night air was somewhat cool as they stood in the backyard of the Cullens' home.

Esme had decided it would be a wonderful idea if only the weather would hold out. Bella silently praised Esme on her decision to hold an outdoor fundraiser.

The doctors began going off about something in a joking atmosphere but Bella couldn't keep up and her mind drifted away from the conversation. The only thing left to ground her was knowing Carlisle leaned his weight toward her while his hand still rested comfortably on her back.

* * *

"Esme…" someone asked her but their voice was muffled as if they were speaking to her from behind a wall. As she held her drink, she felt sick, faint, her fingers clammed like she had that morning with Bella. Mrs. Cullen shook her head and knitted her brows together. Clumsily, she handed the drink she held to Martha Westlake, her neighbor and closest friend.

"Esme?" Martha asked, growing concerned. "Are you alright?" The woman held her arms to steady the expectant mother.

"Y…yes…" she mumbled.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just got a bit dizzy there for a second," Esme replied, holding her hand to the temples of her forehead.

"Let's bring you inside."

The two women slowly walked away from the donors and into the house through the sliding door that led into the living area of the house. Martha sat Esme down, not leaving her side thinking she might faint.

Esme sighed and she strewed her eyes shut, "Uh," she mumbled in pain.

"What's wrong?" Martha asked growing more concerned.

"I don't know," she mumbled, leaning her head back onto the couch.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to get Carlisle, don't move!" Esme's guest said as she walked with a brisk pace to find the doctor. She went out of the house and scanned the small crowd. She looked near the pool, the guest house, the popup bar, the small stage for a three-piece band and there in the middle of the floor, Carlisle stood laughing with a group of partygoers.

Martha trekked over excusing herself when she interrupted conversations and bumped others.

"Carlisle," she whispered near his ear when she reached him. Bella felt a pang of jealousy that this intruder stood next to him so easily. Bella thought she was ugly. Her hair was a deep red and was obviously dyed. Her pale skin deeply wrinkled near her dark eyes. Her nose was small and her lips were thin. She was tall but was husky like she'd had several children and did not lose the pregnancy weight.

"Martha," Carlisle began, "what is it?" He asked, catching her worried expression.

"It's Esme…" she told him knowing he would need nothing further.

"Where is she?" He demanded, scanning the crowd for a head of long, brown hair—Esme's hair.

"She's inside."

"Carlisle, is everything alright?" Bella asked, wondering what was going on, much like the others.

"I don't know," he answered, leaving her and running toward the house. He barged through the crowds, his guests sending him mumbles of annoyance due to the shifting gravity of the fundraiser. When he went inside, he saw a heap of dark cloth coating the soft fabric of the couch. It breathed a sigh of pain and shifted it's weight from one side to the other as a mess of brown hair moved at the top.

"Esme…" he began, taking no more than three steps as the long stride of his legs rushed him to his wife.

"It hurts," she cried as she held her arms tight against her midsection. She no longer felt dizzy instead, her midriff sent shooting stabbing pain all through out her body.

"What does honey?" He asked looking her over. She said nothing as her actions and body language told him everything. Gently, he removed her arms away from her body to check for any external source of the pain.

"Ow…" she winced, "ah…ow, ow…." she cried. Her shoulders shuttered and tears of pain welled in her eyes. She made no more verbal noises but her face was stricken with torture. She blinked her eyes several times to rid rid them of tears that threatened to fall. Shaking, she lifted her eyes to meet Carlisle's.

Clearly, he was worried but dumbstruck was the most prominent emotion that plagued his face. When he examined her with his eyes, he found no sign that she was injured, so, the pain must be coming from inside of her body.

 _Internal bleeding?_

 _A ruptured organ…appendicitis?_ He listed off in his head. He brought his hand to her cheek to feel if her body temperature might be elevated. Esme leaned into the touch of his cool hand and took comfort in the contact.

Feeling another stabbing pain, she curled in on herself again like she had when Carlisle found her, leaving his hand in the air. She groaned. She willed herself not to cry but to no avail.

Carlisle continued to list possible traumas to her condition, and it dawned upon him why she felt the way she did. He knitted his brows together as he listed the ailments he noticed.

 _Tiredness, dizziness…_

"Honey?" He tried, as he sat on the heels of his feet in front of her. She lifted her head giving him her attention as he placed cool hands on her shaky knees. "When was your last period?"

* * *

I'm so sorry this chapter took so long, but between updates for this story I was updating another story of mine that I'm happy to say that I have recently finished. It's about Carlisle and an OC that he falls in love with and what happens after she dies and how he copes with losing her. If it interests you, check it out. The fic is called _Between the Darkness and Dawn_.

Anyway, thank you for the lovely reviews though I did have to use Google Translate for one of them. Thank you for the kind words and you're reading the story—tell me what you think! I love seeing feedback.

As always,

-Your daily dose of romance


	7. Lying

"When was your last period?" Carlisle asked going into what Esme dubbed, 'his doctor mode'.

"Last month. I started it on the eighth and ended on the twelfth," she groaned as Carlisle picked her up from the couch and brought her up the stairs. He laid her down in the bed in their room and walked over to the closet to grab her an old shirt he mostly used in his first year of medical school.

"How badly did it hurt?" He inquired trying to gather as much information as possible.

"I mean it was my period, but when I'm on it, it doesn't hurt all that much. I just take an Advil and call it good. But that week was the week I was feeling terrible. You asked if you should take a few days off to make sure I was okay…"

"I remember. I've also noticed your eating less and less."

"Yeah, I haven't had an appetite."

Before the fundraiser could end, Carlisle stripped Esme from her dress and pulled one of his t-shirts over her head. He knew if she was feeling sick, she liked to steal one of his shirts. Esme laid in bed as she still writhed in pain while Carlisle rehung the dress in a random spot in the closet. When that was finished, Carlisle ran back downstairs and into the kitchen. He grabbed a heating pad from underneath the sink and while he waited for the water to boil, he dug into the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of pain killers.

He filled the heating pad with boiling water and took that as well. With a glass of cool water and the pad, he went back up to the bedroom and gave her the medicine knowing it would help her sleep.

While he waited for it to kick in, he fussed over her and doing what he could to make her comfortable, undid her hair and brushed it softly as she leaned against him for support.

"Esme, I want you to do me a favor as both your husband and a doctor," Carlisle said as he laid her flat on her back when her hair was as soft as could be. He removed the blanket and pushed the shirt up exposing her stomach. He pushed his hands in her midsection and popped them up just as quickly feeling for any abnormalities and gauging her reaction.

"What?" She hissed, grabbing at the blankets for something to hold on to and focused on the heat emanating from the pad on her lower back.

"I want you to go to the hospital tomorrow because from what you've told me and what I've noticed, something's wrong."

"Do you think I'm pregnant?"

"I don't know, but your symptoms are consistent with pregnancy. How have you been feeling?" He asked placing the back of his hand on her forehead to see if she might be burning up.

"Sick. Tired. My back is killing me…" she explained. When she became drowsy, she told him to head back downstairs and assure their guests that she was fine.

"What should I tell them?" Carlisle asked as he handed Esme a glass of water which she drank tentatively.

"Just tell them I'm feeling a little sick is all," she said giving the glass to Carlisle which he placed on the the nightstand. With a yawn, Esme snuggled into the pillows careful not to move more than she had to.

"Are you sure? I could just end it early. I don't want them keeping you awake."

"I'll be fine," she mumbled closing her heavy eyelids.

"Okay, if you need me. I'll be down stairs. Sleep well, my love."

"I love you…" Esme yawned into the pillow.

"I love you more," Carlisle continued.

"Oh you know the rest," she mumbled as sleep overtook her.

"Only because it's true," he whispered with a small smile as he placed gentle lips in her cheek.

"..mmhm…"

Carlisle waited until Esme's breathing was soft and even when he took his leave. He left the nightstand light on and closed the bedroom door with one last look at the small bump in an otherwise smooth bed.

 _Please be okay…_ he thought as he walked down the stairs and back to the party. There were only a few people left as Carlisle suddenly realized the lateness of the hour. He felt like he'd been a terrible host not even bidding his guests goodbye and to drive safely. What's worse was he felt like he'd been a terrible husband as there was nothing more he could do for his wife until tomorrow—somewhere in the night, tomorrow turned into the next morning.

"Carlisle," Bella began going to stand next to him, "Is she alright?"

"She was just feeling a little sick. I'm sure she'll get better but I told her to go to the hospital anyway," the doctor explained.

"I should tell you she was feeling a little tired earlier but I thought she was just drowsy or something."

"Thanks Bells."

"Bells?" She inquired.

"I'm sorry. If you don't like it…" Carlisle began.

"No," Bella interrupted laughing, "it's fine," she smiled as Carlisle gave her a nickname. She followed him as he walked over to the small bar and behind the counter as she took a seat in the front. He reached for a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a small glass.

"Can I get you a water or anything?" He asked, standing like a bartender ready to take an order.

"Yeah, thanks." She answered as she watched the few people who hadn't left yet.

After Carlisle poured Bella her drink, he downed his own in one gulp not regretting it. He needed something to dull his edge. He'd recently feeling a lot like that lately with work, worrying about Bella, making sure Esme was happy and to top it off, a new baby on the way. When he remembered he was going to be a father, he poured himself another glass and sighed.

He was enthrallingly terrified.

"Carlisle, are _you_ okay?" Bella asked watching him down his second drink in less than two minutes. He puffed his chest as he thought of what to say.

"I don't even know how to answer that." He felt the alcohol burn his throat as he strewed his eyes shut and shuddered at the taste.

"Can't hold your liquor?" Bella teased.

"I don't really drink hard liquor."

"Then why are you?" Bella asked, crossing her legs and placing her arms on the bar top.

"I don't know. Normally I'm a lot better at hiding stress than this," he answered staring at the glass cup and bottle debating whether to pour himself another drink. "Then again, I don't really hide anything, not from Esme."

"Then what are you hiding?" Bella asked as her curiosity piqued. Carlisle looked away from the glass and into Bella's eyes.

"Nothing," he lied. Everyone hid something. Just then, the last of the guests decided to take their leave as Carlisle showed them out leaving Bella at the bar.

"Be careful and drive safely!" He called as they climbed into their cars.

"See you later Carl!"

"Whatever, we both know I hate that name!" He answered back slightly annoyed.

"That's why I use it!" Someone yelled back with the slamming of a car door. Carlisle shook his head and walked back inside the house. He found Bella standing in the living room near the lit fireplace.

"Got kinda cold," she explained as she held a blanket draped around her shoulders. "But I'll admit it was nice getting to meet everyone."

"Yeah I'm glad they got to meet you too," he answered as he walked into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water knowing if he didn't he'd be hungover tomorrow. When he walked back out, he carried a bit of gauze with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

"Bella," he called.

"Yes," she answered innocently as the light from the fire lit her face aglow. Her dark eyes brightened. Her face glowed like the sun. The light caught her hair aflame and painted a soft orange hue on her profile.

"I need to clean them," he slurred walking over and plopped down right in front of the hearth. She joined him with the blanket still wrapped around her. Though Esme was upstairs, they whispered their voices.

"Are you sure your sober enough to play doctor?" Bella flirted batting her eyelashes.

"We'll find out," he answered as he opened the bottle and tipped some of the liquid onto the gauze. Bella hissed when Carlisle patted the largest cut.

"Sorry. We both know I had a few drinks here and there. I'm normally a lot better than this," he bragged.

"I believe you," Bella said. When the conversation came to a halt, they sat in a comfortable silence as Carlisle concentrated on his work while Bella concentrated on him.

"Bells," Carlisle sighed no longer able to deal with his mental struggle, "can I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Why did you lie?"

"About what?" Bella smiled wondering what it was she lied about.

"Your marriage," Carlisle pushed as he dabbed at another cut.

"Oh. That."

"So, why'd you lie?"

Bella scratched the side of her face careful not to bump the doctor at his work as she thought. She wondered if she should lie now or tell Carlisle the truth.

"It's just," he began, "I've been wondering about it and I'm sure Esme has too."

"Um, well James isn't the easiest man to live with as I'm sure you've guessed."

"Then you do you stay?"

"I don't know. I did love him, once upon a time. We met when I was in high school and he was my first serious relationship. Daddy didn't like him very much. Then again, he didn't like anyone, but I didn't care what he thought. I loved James then he left to join the military, but when he came back to me, he was different.

"He…I don't know what happened and I never bothered to ask. James isn't one for heart to heart conversations. He's stoic," Bella explained, "When I had had enough, I tried to run away because he wouldn't sign the divorce papers. He found me, beat me and told me the next time I tried anything that stupid, he'd kill me."

"Did you call the police?" Carlisle asked angry at the man who dared to lay a finger on Bella.

"No. Suppose it just goes to show how stupid I really am."

"Bella, I don't believe that. I don't believe you're stupid."

"When you've been told the exact same thing over and over for so long, it gets hard not to believe it."

"What happened the other day when I drove over to your house?" Carlisle asked putting the gauze down and looking at the floor rather than her face. He knew if he looked at the bruises and cuts, it would anger him but the anger would not be directed at Bella rather the man she tried to hide.

"He…he wanted me to do something that I couldn't, something that I'm sure you'll understand if I don't want to talk about it. I told him that I liked you," Bella said looking at Carlisle. As those words left her lips, his eyes shot up to meet her's. "and Esme of course…he didn't like that. I tried to explain that what he asked wasn't a good idea. He argued that neither of us had a job and we couldn't pay the rent."

"I'm sorry we had to put you in such a position."

"No, don't be. It was clear to me how much you two want a baby when I first met you. You seem like a beautiful couple, you and Esme."

"Yeah. I'd like to think so. I love her and she loves me, that's all there is to it." Carlisle waited a beat before he began on his other question. "Do you know if James will get out soon?"

"I don't know. I'm hoping he stays right where he is."

"Me too," he agreed.

"You really do seem like a good man Carlisle. Esme is lucky to have you."

Carlisle smiled at that, "I'm lucky to have her."

"Yeah," Bella sighed.

They said nothing further as Carlisle continued to clean the cuts like the good doctor he is. After that was finished, he ordered Bella to bed and followed her up the stairs to go to his own.

"What should I do with the dress?" Bella asked from the threshold of her bedroom.

"Just leave it on the dresser. If you like, I'm sure Esme wouldn't mind if you stole it. She doesn't wear it," Carlisle smiled a mischievous grin.

"I couldn't!"

"Why not? It looks incredible on you!"

"Really, Carlisle. I couldn't," Bella told him reluctantly. She really did love the dress.

"Alright, then think of it as a gift from me to you. After all, I did buy it," Carlisle whispered near his own door.

"I don't believe you."

"Come on, do you really think Esme would buy a dress that beautiful in the wrong size?"

"Are you sure?" Bella asked from her door. She stood a few feet within the room as she played with both sides of the door knob in her hands with her head pressed against the door's width.

"Absolutely. Good night Bells."

"Good night."

"See you in the morning," he said as he walked into his room.

"See you in my dreams," Bella whispered watching him leave the hall.

* * *

The next morning, Esme felt no better than she had the night before. She woke in a cold sweat. Her body shivered but she was encompassed in a heap of layered blankets. Carlisle had opened the window like he had every night before and bundled her up like he had every time the window was open.

She tossed in the bed holding her stomach. She whimpered as she turned her head to check the clock on the nightstand and found a glass of water with ice as the condensation dripped onto the wooden surface and a small white tablet of medicine. She snatched for the pill with all the energy she could manage and downed the water like she'd been caught in a desert.

 _Thank you Carlisle. This is why I love you…_ she thought as she felt the cool liquid slide down her scratchy throat. She tossed a few more minutes and when she had enough, she sat up in the bed.

Her body felt like she'd been tossed into a blender. She felt nauseated, bloated, and tired though she slept for nearly ten hours. She sat in the bed with her head in her hands patiently waiting for the world around her to stop shifting so quickly.

"Esme," Carlisle began as he walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Are you feeling any better?"

"No…" she grumbled not bothering to look up. Carlisle came to sit next to her on the bed and when he did, she fell onto him wanting comfort. She didn't care if his skin might have been soaked and his hair dripped wet.

"I'm sorry. We'll just get you dressed, find you something to eat and we'll head to the hospital. How does that sound?" He whispered wanting to be as quiet as possible.

"I think I can use a quick shower."

"Can you manage it on your own?" Carlisle asked suggestively.

"Yeah," she answered looking up. When she did, her body started spasming. She gagged, jumped out of the bed and ran into the bathroom. She spewed all the food her body hadn't digested yet along with the water and pain killer. As she spat everything up, Carlisle held her hair not bothered by the smell or the act itself.

When she knew there was nothing left, Esme flushed the toilet and asked for her water on the nightstand. Carlisle came back with the water and held it out for her to take.

"Thanks," she mumbled, "I think I'm going to take that shower now. It'll probably help." Carlisle said nothing but just nodded his head and walked out leaving her sitting on the edge of the tub as he went to get dressed.

Esme took a few minutes to herself as she tried to get her bearings. She sighed and when she was able to move again, she stripped herself of the t-shirt and ran the water as hot as her body could manage. She took her time and concentrated on the hot steam rather than the feeling in her midriff.

When she was finished, she stepped out of the tub with a towel wrapped around her frame and went to her sink as the husband and wife had double sinks. She wiped the steam off the mirror and took in her reflection.

She looked pale though her body should have been burning red from the temperature of the shower. Her face looked sunken in. The skin under her eyes was darkened, a clear indication of the unrestful sleep she had the night before.

She dressed in a pair of black pants that she normally only used for days at the gym and a simple button up. When Esme went down stairs, she walked into the kitchen and watched as Carlisle whipped up a stack of French toast with a side of hash browns.

He sat her down and instructed her to stay put. He would do everything and cook enough for the three occupants of the house.

"Don't you have to go to work?" Esme asked eyeing the food that was set down in front of her. Just the smell alone made her feel like she was going to be sick. So to spare Carlisle bruised feelings, she ate only a few bites.

"No. I took the day off," he answered dumping the thick syrup onto his plate. Carlisle ate in silence while Esme did anything but. She didn't want to risk the fact that she felt like she was going to hurl right there on the table.

"Are you not hungry?" Carlisle asked worried.

"No, I just feel like I'm going to be sick," she explained with her head in her hands rubbing the sides.

* * *

At the hospital, Carlisle had done everything. He drove up next to the door, parked the car and checked her in. It was a policy that under no circumstances was a family member allowed to examine a patient so he waited impatiently to hear the diagnosis of whatever was wrong.

"Hello Dr. Cullen," someone who worked at the hospital would say when they passed by.

"Hello," he would answer back with a bow of his head and the unstoppable quick tapping of his feet as he waited. He continued on in that fashion until he saw Esme's doctor and one of his oldest friends walk out with a solemn expression.

"Carlisle," Brett called as he'd come to stand next to his friend.

"Just tell me," Carlisle demanded. "I know how this works. Just tell me what's wrong with her."

"We've been running several tests and I've asked several different doctors for their opinions…" Brett began going to reach for Carlisle elbow in an attempt of comfort.

"I don't want any opinions!" Carlisle urged swatting Brett's hand away. "I want to know what the hell is wrong with my wife."

"I think maybe you need to sit down."

 _It can't be that bad…_ "Brett, just…please…" Carlisle begged.

"Esme…she's…she's very sick. She has…" Brett tried. It pained him to break the terrible news.

"Damnit Brett, spit it out!" Under normal circumstances, Carlisle usually kept a calm, suave demeanor but he'd had enough.

"O…Ova…Ov…"

" _I_ was the one with the stutter," Carlisle reminded, "Please, just tell me."

"I'm so sorry but it's cancer. Ovarian Cancer…Carlisle I'm sorry but it's spread from her ovaries into her uterus."

"No," Carlisle smiled unbelievingly, "you're joking. It's just some stupid prank that God knows who decided to make up. You're lying."

"Carlisle, I'm not lying."

"No…no. Tell me that you're lying," Carlisle stipulated.

"I wish I was."


	8. Facade of Living

Hey guys! I'm so sorry this chapter took forever but I wasn't sure how to write it so I've had to scrap it several times. Anyway, I should let you know that the beginning of this chapter is going to be very offensive to a great number of people and I've been debating on whether or not to leave it in. You've been warned!

Thank you guys so much for the wonderful reviews, I have seen them and I'd like to say thanks for not giving up on me even though my updates have been sporadic.

Another thing is I did change the summary but it's not really going to affect the plot at all I was just tired of the way it was written.

* * *

"We both know that I'm a praying man. We both know that," Carlisle said as he sat in the hospital's church. The room was vacant with only one exception. He stared up at the cross behind the pulpit as he sat in the furthest chair toward the back. He rested his arms on the back of the pew in front him as he folded his hands in a prayer.

"I go to church every Sunday," he explained to no one. "I've read the Bible cover to cover numerous times. I believe in you," he said with his eyes never leaving the holy cross.

"I can't see you but…I know you're there, somewhere. I was raised on it. I've done everything I'm supposed to. Everything. I donate to my church. I save lives. I have followed your commandments to the letter. I've tried to live my life in the best way I can, the best way I know how. What I've done now more than makes up for what I'd done all those years ago. I was young and stupid but I've paid for my mistakes." Carlisle sighed as his words echoed off the walls and back into his ears.

"Why?" He asked. "Why? What did I do this time? Where did I go wrong? What did I do to deserve this? Please, tell me. What did I do? Why are you doing this? I…w…where did I…wha…just…" he tried as tears welled in his eyes. He felt the hot sting as they left his eyes and fell onto his cheeks. With every tear shed, new ones came to replace them and they seemed unending.

"Please…don't take her from me," he whispered as the words left his lips in broken syllables. "She's everything. It took what I had done to see what she really means to me. Don't take her, not her. Not her…not…her," he repeated over and over like a broken record. He let his head fall onto the back of the pew as his shoulders shuttered and he cried. When the fit had ended, he lifted his head and brought his eyes back to stare at the unmoving cross.

"I hate you. You son of a bitch, " he whispered with all the built fury felt by his entire body. He knew it was a terrible sin to curse God let alone swearing in a church but he didn't care. A week ago he might have but he was too angry.

"Please. I'm begging you. Not her. Anyone but her. Fu…you…I'VE DONE EVERYTHING! WHY! SON OF A BITCH! ANSWER ME!" He yelled.

"ANSWER ME!" He screamed again as the cross sat unmoving with all the glory of the divine entity the idol represented.

"What did I do? What did she do? She's never done anything to deserve this! She's a good woman. She's never done anything but worshiped you the exact way I do," he explained.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU…PLEASE!" He cried as his own voice stung his ears, "please. Not her. If you have to take anyone, take me. She can't die," he whispered as a new wave of tears fell.

"No one should ever have to live like this…no one should ever have to feel this pain…please…" he begged. "Help me…"

* * *

The drive home was silent. Carlisle said nothing to Esme and Esme said nothing to Carlisle. Esme watched the trees pass with the buildings that gradually became houses. Carlisle tried in vain to pay attention to the winding roads but only focused on the now numbered breaths his wife breathed.

They reached the driveway of their home and he put the car in park without putting it into the garage. He cut the engine and sat there blankly staring out the window. The rain poured outside fogging the panes of glass.

He was a doctor. He was a doctor that delivered terrible news like the one he'd just paid witness. It was supposed to be someone else who had to go through the treatments his wife was now receiving.

Someone else was supposed to be sick, it was always someone else.

He was a man with a loving wife to kiss him when he came home. Their life was supposed to be a long and happy adventure together. Somewhere along the lines, it seemed, the patient came home with the doctor.

"Carlisle…" Esme began but before she could say anything else, he opened the car door, climbed out and slammed it shut behind him. She followed suit into the house and when she did, she found him sitting on the stairs leading to the second story.

"I know that this isn't what we planned when we set out on our future together," she said going to sit next to him.

"No, it isn't," he mumbled not daring to look up anywhere but the floor. "We're supposed be together like we always said. We're supposed to grow old and be that old couple who lives just down the street. We're supposed to have babies and grandchildren and great-grandchildren to be with us when we died. We're supposed to be surrounded by our family when we died old and together," Carlisle explained his vision of what their life together was supposed to be.

"Sometimes…" Esme tried.

"That's who we're supposed to be," he interrupted, "we're supposed to be the perfect family with the beautiful house, the loving husband and wife. We're supposed to have the love that people only dream about."

"I _do_ love you," Esme assured.

"I know, and it scares the shit out of me. I am nothing. I am nothing without you. You're my rock, my anchor, the person that keeps me grounded. I don't want to die old, alone and hating the world because the one woman I loved isn't on it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. There's no need. Neither one of us could have prevented it from happening. But I made a promise to you, sickness and in health," Carlisle explained chancing a look at Esme. "You've been my anchor now it's my turn to try and be yours."

"We'll live our lives as we always have and if it gets worse then I know I'll have you and if I get better then great!"

"I love you," Carlisle said with nothing but absolute honesty.

"I love more."

"No you don't."

"Yes. I do."

"Now that, my dear Esme, is impossible," he told her with a sorrowful smile.

Esme leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her in a near chokehold daring her to move. She didn't. His squeeze was tight around her neck and body. She shuffled against him, moved her head and met her lips with his.

She wouldn't have known it, but if she opened her eyes, she would have found that Carlisle's were wide open with his eye brows knitted together in frustration. Just then, he realized every kiss she gave him might be her last, every breath was now numbered, every dream she dreamt would never be so.

With that in mind, he made the most of it. His eyes fluttered closed as he melted into the kiss with all the passion and fury his entire being could imagine. He wanted her, to hold her, to kiss her like he might never get to hold her in this way again because he knew, one day he couldn't. The day was coming when the woman known as Mrs. Esme Cullen, the woman Carlisle made his wife, would be dead. She was dying and he knew, every second wasted would be one second closer to burying the love of his life.

That night, they stayed home and watched t.v. on the flat screen the entire time as they ate ice-cream and pizza. They drank sodas not caring about anything else in the world. Bella joined them for a while until she could take no more of the cuddles and kisses that she felt envious toward.

With an annoyed huff, she walked up the stairs, into the guest bedroom and read. She began on a book she found on a shelf in the hallway. It was about a writer who gets into a car accident to find that when he awoke, he was not in a hospital but rather a house with a woman who called herself his "number one fan".

She was nearly half way through the book when she heard a quiet knock on the door.

"Bella?" Esme called from behind the closed door.

"Yeah?" She answered reaching for a book mark she left on the bed. She sat crosslegged over the duvet and propped her back using the pillows.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Esme opened the door as she was invited into the sanctuary.

"Bella, there's something that we need to talk about," Esme began.

"What's up?" Bella asked mortified. She assumed the conversation was leading into Carlisle's misconduct of last night holding her the way he did.

"I'm not quite sure how to say this," Esme mumbled into nothing, "so I'll just say it. Bella, I'm sick."

"What do you mean?" She asked with fake worry.

"I mean, Carlisle and I both know why I couldn't have children. I'm sick and it's not the type of sickness that's going to heal itself over night, hell, it's probably going to kill me. The thing is, it's not me I'm worried about, it's Carlisle. If I die…I know I'm asking a lot, but if I die, watch over him for me?"

"Watch over him?" Bella asked.

"Yes. Like I said, there is a large possibility that I'm going to die, though we all do eventually," Esme explained morosely. "If I do, I want someone I trust to be there for him not just anyone."

 _Convenient to have the first wife's permission…_ Bella thought as she silently began to plan her and Carlisle's life together.

"He's a lot to handle," Bella poked fun at Carlisle's expense.

"I know," Esme chuckled.

"He is a bit melodramatic."

"I know that too."

* * *

The three residents of the house continued on in the facade of living for the next few weeks. During this time, Esme slowly began to decline in health as she was now taking medicine as she'd already begun chemotherapy. Carlisle worked at the hospital and poured himself into it even more so than ever. He was terrified of leaving the hospital as he knew when he went home, he could see the sickness of the house as it spread slowly like Esme's cancer. Bella fell deeper in love with the doctor and she noticed he came home later than what she might expect. She began expressing this love more and more as they spent time together on Carlisle's days off while Esme worked.

They continued on in this fashion, Esme pretended to be healthy, Bella pretended she only thought of Carlisle as a friend, and Carlisle pretended to not know of Bella's intentions. None of the days were of note as they slowly fell back into the mundane synchronic way of living. They woke, dressed, ate breakfast, Carlisle would be shone out the door with a quick peck on his cheek, Esme would attend meetings and visit furniture stores while Bella stayed home and prepared dinner.

After dinner, they would leave their separate ways, Esme would be doing a number of things, while Bella stayed at her side pretending to be the perfect doting best friend to the wife for which was married to the man she loved. Carlisle would make himself scarce and hide upstairs but one night, he decided a few hours out of the house might do him some good though he spent more time in the hospital than at home.

He went out to his car as the misty air drizzled. He drove away to his favorite bar though he hadn't been there in months.

"Where the hell were you?" Esme demanded as Carlisle staggered through the front door at nearly twelve-thirty at night. She barely had time to ask before Carlisle crashed his lips onto her's and enveloped her mouth with his tongue. She tasted alcohol on his tongue and not just from a tiny nip, he was drunk.

He shuttered at the feeling as he brought his hands to her hips and trailed them from there to the small of her back up, and finally to her neck where he pushed her head closer to his wanting, needing to taste her.

His hands were aggressive and Esme knew if they continued in this fashion, she would be bruised in the morning. He maneuvered their bodies as he ground his hips against hers, grabbing her by her bottom, kneading the protruding lumps of flesh. He trailed his kisses from her lips to her cheek, the aggressive movements and putrid smell making Esme's nose burn, never ceasing. He pushed her to the edge of a small desk, trapping her in his embrace.

"Carlisle…" Esme gasped, her cheeks blushed. When she could not grab his attention, she attempted to push him away slightly only for him to hold her tighter, needing to feel _her_ body. His hold squeezed Esme as she felt her chest beginning to spasm and the force of such a hold gave her no chance to escape in any direction.

"Carlisle!" She erupted in a fright. She'd never seen him act in such a manner. Yes, they were married so they had spontaneous bouts of sex. Sometimes it was randomly in the kitchen when Carlisle touched her a certain way, late at night in the bed they shared, or after a gorgeous meal during a date when they opted to go out for a night on the town, she even recalled having sex on the stairs when they first moved into the house after they'd come back from their honeymoon.

They pushed the boundaries of their intimacy in several different manners, and sure, she might have been apprehensive, but this, this was something else and Carlisle scared her. She'd never been scared of her husband before.

If he wanted, he could take advantage of his helpless wife, he was by far, much more stronger. He was taller by nearly half a foot when Esme didn't wear heels and he was likely more fit as his job required him on his feet for nearly twelve hours every day while she sat behind a desk.

None of her fears happened and they became unfounded as he pulled himself away from her and took a small step back.

"I'm sorry…" he sighed, breathless, regret entangled in his apology.

"What's gotten into you?" She asked as she wiped her lips because she tasted the assault of alcohol. Her husband's mouth hung agape and he shook his already fogged head, trying to manage words that were stuck in his throat.

"Tell me?" She offered, putting both hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look her in the eye. What she saw was an expression she'd never seen before. His eyes were daring of tears unshed, his cheeks burned under her hands, his mouth quivered slightly. His breathing was uneven and shaky. He was scared, he was astonished by his own actions, bewildered, confused…

He shook his head in her hands as he looked into her eyes.

"I…uh…" he tried.

"You can tell me," her eyes looked deep into his, trying to pick out what he had to say but unable to find the words.

"It's…I'm sorry," he said again feeling the need to apologize for his violation.

"Carlisle?" She asked dumbfounded by not only his actions but the words he spilled out before her.

"It's nothing," he lied, his actions betraying his words. Carlisle was never a liar and even if he tried, he was terrible at it. She always knew he lied when he said he would be working late as an excuse to grab a quick drink with office friends. He knew she knew he was lying but never called him on it.

She knew he would never have an affair as he already was a terrible liar but she always wondered if he might, if the opportunity presented itself. But even if he did, she would know. His lies were never concrete and almost completely transparent. However, with the way he had been acting lately, especially around Bella, Esme became slightly unsure. His lies of needing to stay at the office later than usual, his distance, why he'd taken up drinking more and more and not just for social gatherings, bothered her and made her question his motives.

Yes, he had one or two drinks with dinner and while out at a fundraiser indulged himself but never to the point of being drunk. Only, he'd taken up drinking as a coping mechanism for something he wasn't telling the only person he told everything to.

Perhaps he was afraid of what she might do if she found out his secret, a secret no one knew other than himself in one other person. Perhaps the love of his life would leave. Now, Carlisle knew Bella had eyes for him. He'd seen her and paid witness to Bella's delusions and he hated it, but perhaps, her delusions became his as well.

He hated her for forcing him to betray his wife however nonphysical it might be. But could it not be said, his only fault was in that of being a man? He was guilty of only this and nothing more, he thought about Bella and what her hands would feel like reacting to his touch, what noises would escape her lips…but this was only within a single, passing thought and he never acted upon it, only leaving it to imagination.

"It doesn't seem like nothing," Esme told him as her brow furrowed, "Carlisle?"

He sighed, unable to say what needed to be said and shook his head in defeat.

"Well," Esme began slightly annoyed, "I can't help you until you tell me what the hell has you so riled up, so, when you do want to tell me, I'll be in bed while you can sleep on the couch tonight," she suggested, leaving him there as she turned around and walked up the stairs. Carlisle watched her leave, the words he _needed_ to say just stuck on the tip of his tongue. He knew Esme would lock the bedroom door. Even in his drunken state, he knew if he followed her, Esme's annoyance would slip into anger.

He crossed himself and placed a hand on his forehead rubbing at the temples. All the while, little did either the husband or wife, now in a strained marriage know that Isabella stood just behind the door of her bedroom listening in with a coy smile across her lips.


	9. Thin, Separate Lines

_Two hours before…_

Carlisle barged into the the rustic looking interior of the bar which his mind seemed so intent on coming to. He walked up to the counter as women gave second looks and waitresses took notice of him. They always did, not that Carlisle ever paid them any attention. He wasn't so narcissistic to say that he was a young, good looking man with money, but he did take pride in what he had and did.

He took a seat in the first stool that caught his line of sight when the bartender turned to ask for an order.

"Carlisle!" The tender exclaimed. He was a lanky man with shaggy brown hair that reached his shoulders. His facial hair was unkempt and his eyes were a dark brown. His fingers were long but his nails were cut short and he wore a look of jolly humor at seeing one of his favorited patrons.

"Hey Garrett," Carlisle tried but he couldn't keep his voice light enough.

"What'll it be?" Garrett asked with a broad smile coming to stand behind Carlisle's section of the counter.

"Something hard. How about…a bourbon highball."

Garrett gave a quick nod of his head as he attempted to remember how best to mix the drink. As he set to his work, Carlisle finally lifted his head from the counter and watched as Garrett mixed the drink with the same precision the doctor had while working at the hospital.

"You know Carlisle," Garrett sighed as his smile slightly faded, "a man only drinks like that if he's having lady troubles," he deliberated after watching Carlisle down the drink in one go after it had been placed in front of him.

"Yeah, I know," Carlisle mumbled as he pushed the now empty glass toward the other side of the counter.

"Another?" The tender offered. Carlisle gave no verbal reply but just a simple nod of his head with his eyes lost in thoughts too far away.

"Alright. I've got a few minutes to talk," Garrett offered as he mixed the same drink twice.

"You know, you must be really good at your job to be thinking it's lady troubles," Carlisle considered.

"That's probably why I'm still here after eight years," Garrett joked about his current situation. "But it's always the same eyes with a different face. I should know, hell, even I've had that look. Tell me about her?"

"She is…beautiful," Carlisle began.

"They always are," Garrett told him.

Garrett knew Carlisle trusted him. The only time the two ever saw each other was in this bar and they knew nothing about their personal lives but it had been a relationship very much like the bar patron and the bar tender. Garrett was Carlisle's listening ear. It always came with job and Garrett was always willing to listen, as well as offer what advice he could under the circumstances.

"But when I first met her," Carlisle mumbled as he held back a shutter from the taste of the bourbon. "I didn't really think of her like that. Then I actually started talking to her. She's fun to be around and she always makes me smile…but she's a liar. She's been lying to me since the day I met her. But here's the thing, I know that I care about her," the doctor vaguely explained, "I tell her all the time. I know she cares about me too," Carlisle said as he curled his hand around the tumbler as it was placed in front of him.

"But it's not love?" On those words, Carlisle paused and thought for a second.

"It is. I know it is. She loves me and I don't know what to do about it."

"Why don't you spent some time away from her? Clear your head?"

"That's the thing, I can't."

"Why not?" Garrett asked, as he wiped down the counter with a tea towel he kept folded on his shoulder.

"Because I live with her," Carlisle explained as he downed the drink once more and asked for another.

"That's a damn shame. Sure you don't want to slow down?"

"No, keep them coming."

"Alright," Garrett said as he began to mix another drink.

It was just after midnight when Carlisle had his fill. He thanked Garrett, paid his bill and staggered out into the rainy October night. He knew it was a stupid idea but he climbed into the driver's seat of his car and drove away. As he drove, he thought about the two women at home right at this very second. He couldn't help but wonder which woman he was referring to talking to Garrett.

They were both beautiful.

They were both funny.

They always made him smile.

They were both liars.

Carlisle let out a small sigh and shook his head at what he knew—he loved her. He loved her and she was liar.

"Match made in heaven…" he exclaimed. Suddenly, he had a wonderful, drunk, amazing idea. He miss-pressed a few of the buttons but he finally managed to turn on the bluetooth to the car at a red light. He fidgeted with the apps on his phone, opened up the music app and played, what he thought, was the perfect song for his current situation.

 _"_ _Now I don't hardly know her,"_ he sang at the top of his lungs as the volume coming from the car's speaker system drowned out his voice.

 _"_ _But I think I can love her. Crimson and clover. Now when she comes walking over now I been waiting to show her…"_

"When in doubt, go with Joan Jett," he said to no one, "Joanie always knows," he hiccuped.

Just as the song ended, he reached the driveway of his house, he put the car in park and dared not to even think about putting it in the garage because he knew it wouldn't be in par with sneaking back inside. As quietly as he could in his inebriated state, he snuck in though the front door only to be confronted by Esme.

"Where the hell were you?"

From his perspective, everything went blank as the full force of the alcohol finally hit him.

* * *

 _Present…_

"Carlisle? Is everything okay?" Bella asked from the top of the stairs. She'd only left her bedroom when she knew Esme was in her own. Bella walked down the stairs wearing nothing but short shorts and a white tank top though if one asked Carlisle, he would never have been able to remember.

Bella came to stand in front of to him just at the foot of the stairs as he leaned his weight on a small table. He was so drunk that he didn't feel a potted plant digging into his back as it leaned precariously to one side.

"No," he grumbled, "I feel like everything is just falling apart," he said as he held his thumb to his lips. He ran his hand though his hair and sighed.

Bella watched him and had an idea.

"It can't be. Do you know why?" She asked as she brushed her fingers on the backs of his arms. It had not been the first time either of the two touched each other like this so Carlisle thought nothing of it.

"But it is…" he began as he used Bella simple touches to help ground him. He looked down as she stood in front of him and wondered what she was thinking but he never knew. Bella was the most unpredictable woman he'd ever met.

"No it isn't," Bella told him knocking him out of his contemplations. "Come here, I want to show you something," she said as she led him from the bottom of the stairs and into the living room. She flicked on a lamp and laid down on the couch with her head propped by the arm rest.

"What are you doing?" Carlisle asked as he stood near where she lay.

"Just give me your hand and trust me," she instructed offering her own for Carlisle to take. Carlisle placed his hand within her's and sat down on the floor awaiting further instruction. Bella lifted her tank to reveal a flat stomach.

Carlisle wondered if her skin was really as soft as it looked. Before his train of thought left the station, Bella placed their hands on her lower abdomen and it was. Carlisle's hand gently caressed Bella's lower stomach beneath her naval. She guided his hand further still, just into the waistband of her shorts.

"Do you feel how it's harder…right there?" She said guiding his hand using her own further to the right. She liked the feeling of his hands on her bare skin. It sent shockwaves and tingles throughout her body that emanated from the place he touched her.

"Yeah…" he mumbled.

"See? Not everything is as bad as it seems. Carlisle, that's your baby in there. He's already changing my body and he's only about an inch long."

"He?"

"Yeah, I think it might be a boy, at least when I picture the baby I see a boy. Probably shouldn't call him it, he's not an 'it', he's your son…or daughter. If the baby is a boy, what would you name him?" Bella asked curiously.

"I once told Esme that if we ever had a son, he'd be named after my father, Edward," Carlisle explained.

"That's a really old name."

"What do you mean?" Carlisle asked studying Bella's face as he still felt the inch-long fetus growing inside. The bruising on her profile had faded completely, her cuts were no longer, only small scars that told a quiet story as they were barely visible. She looked like a different person than the one he'd picked up from her crime-scene of a home what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I didn't mean to say it's old," Bella corrected, "it's just not very modern."

"Bells, I thought you knew me by now. I thought you knew I had an old soul."

Bella giggled at that. "But what if the baby is a girl?"

"Maybe…" he sighed, as the small glee disappeared within his features. His head somewhat cleared but the world still felt like it was spinning far too fast.

"I'm sorry. Looks like I struck a nerve," she apologized quickly.

"No, no it's fine," he assured, "I don't exactly care what the gender is, as long as the baby is healthy. When Esme was pregnant, we were going to have a girl, but like all the rest, she lost the baby," Carlisle explained. "Her name was Rosalie. We were going to call her Rose…my little flower," he mumbled the last words but they were more. The last three words were an entire lifetime that never began. The two sat in silence as Carlisle mourned the child that would have been and Bella, unsure of what to say, stayed quiet.

 _"_ _Good night, little flower,"_ Carlisle thought he might have said when her parents tucked her in. In his mind's eye, she would have been nearly five with a head of blond hair like her father and a beautiful face, like her mother's.

 _"_ _You know, my little flower isn't so much of a 'little flower' anymore,"_ Carlisle thought he might have explained one night when Rose was a senior in high school.

 _"_ _What do you mean?"_ Esme would have asked as she fitted her body around Carlisle's as they lay, settling for bed.

 _"_ _I mean she's turning into a Rose,"_ Carlisle sighed as he realized how old he suddenly felt.

Carlisle imagined he and Esme would have more children. They would grow older like Rosalie, they would leave off for college and come back with a loving partner for Christmas break. There would be heartbreaks and breakups which Esme would offer comfort, there would be new cars and trips across country which Carlisle would pay as he would spoil them against Esme's wishes.

Then, one of his children would marry, like all children do after they've grown. This child, would then start a family. When Carlisle would have held his grandchild for the first time, he would feel so much older than when he realized his little flower had grown. Esme would offer advice to the new parent and explain what to do when the child was feverish or ailing in some way, like all mothers do.

Carlisle would have had his heart spill over in love as he watched Esme hold her first grandchild for the first time. Then, one might have turned into three, three into seven, seven into ten as his younger children grew and started out with families of their own.

He would watch and grow older with every passing morning, remembering the times past when he married, when his first child was born, when they got their first car as a sixteenth birthday present, when they left and started a life of their own. He would think back on how difficult it would have been, how there would be long nights and sunny days.

He would think of how beautiful Esme was, how had it not been without her, he might never have had a family. How she would curl up next to him when her hair was greying and her reading glasses turned into a permanent feature as she grew older. When her smile lines became more prominent. When her eyes told the story of how much she loved her life, how much they both did.

It would have been a long time coming, but Carlisle would die and so would Esme. They would leave their physical forms, yes, but through their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, they would live on.

Carlisle was the first to break the silence which startled Bella.

"When Es lost her, something in her changed. Esme, she…she was different with this one than the others. Maybe it was because the fetus had a name? I don't know. Maybe it was because this one lasted longer? But with the others, it was just…uh…a lot of blood and a long night sitting in a bathtub as I tried to be…whatever a man becomes when he loses a baby who hadn't started to even live. Yes, we'd mourn the fetus but when Es was ready, we'd try again.

"But after Rose…Esme, she wanted a way to say goodbye to the child that could never be. So I took the fetus placed it in a jewelry box, stuck it in the fireplace and burned it. When there was nothing but ashes, I took them. The next morning I went the closest flower shop and bought a planter and flower seeds.

"I mixed the ashes with soil. A few months later, the flowers bloomed. Roses. They were as red as blood and beautiful. You know, I always wondered what she might have looked like. I think…she might have looked like her momma but she'd be blond, like me."

"Carlisle, I'm so sorry."

"That's why we hired you. Rose was the last baby Esme tried to carry. We still have the flowers. They're in the nursery. Once a week, Esme goes in just the water them. That's the only time either of us are ever in there."

Carlisle inhaled a deep breath and a few seconds later he said, "Good night Bella. I think its time I went to bed."

"Good night Carlisle," Bella told him as she made a bold move on her part. Carlisle continued to sit on the floor and when Bella got to her feet, she placed a small kiss in his hair. Carlisle didn't reject it but wasn't exactly sure of how to react. So instead of doing something, he watched her leave, his confusion on the subject of the women of the house further entangled.

* * *

They each walked on thin, separate lines leading in a direction none of them could see. Esme held out her arms for balance as she took careful steps not to fall over. She looked up for just the smallest of glances expecting to see Carlisle.

He wasn't there. Instead, she found Bella walking the same line a few feet away. The furthest away was Carlisle. He concentrated on his own line but was beginning to falter. Esme reached out further to steady her husband but, it seemed, Bella was between them and she couldn't reach far enough.

Carlisle's hands were only inches from Esme's when he held them out to her though they seemed miles apart. Suddenly, he reached too far. His feet were too unsteady. His body was too angled and he fell.

Esme watched as he disappeared within the fog at the bottom of a large trench. The last thing she heard before waking in a cold sweat was Carlisle as he inhaled a deep, audible breath. She couldn't see it but she knew he'd fallen to lay with hundreds of unborn babies and children that died far too young.

The last thing she'd done after watching Carlisle fall was look up at Bella. She shook her head in disagreement at what her next action would be. Esme looked away and jumped off her own line as Bella watched with what Esme could only assume was curiosity.

Esme woke in a cold sweat as she grabbed at Carlisle's side of the bed out of habit. In her delirious mind, she truly thought that he'd fallen. When her mind was completely shaken from the world of nightmares, she remembered he slept on the couch. Some part of her had to make absolutely certain that he was fine so she climbed out of the bed but cold tore into her body.

She'd left the bedroom window open though Carlisle slept elsewhere.

The heat that normally came from his body to protect against the cold, left. She ran over to window to close it as the wind blew directly into the room. When she managed it, her fingers were pale from the cold as she scrambled to protect herself. She skin was littered with gooseflesh as she went to the ottoman to retrieve her robe.

When she left the bedroom, she walked down the stairs to find Carlisle drinking a cup of coffee and wearing the same clothes he had last night.

"Good morning," Esme said only out of curtesy.

"Hey," Carlisle answered as he sipped at his cup.

"Feeling sick?" She asked as she poured herself a dose of coffee.

"Yeah."

"Good," she told him curtly, "about last night…" Esme began to see what he remembered. Carlisle furrowed his brow unable to recall what he'd done. He knew he'd left late at night and came back later. He knew he drank and had more liquor than was normal for him. He didn't quite remember driving home and had no idea what he'd done when he got there.

"What did I do?" Carlisle asked worried.

"Nothing," Esme lied. She didn't need an argument about something that was only to be taken as it was. She neither took it too lightly as she was still annoyed though her dreams were of worry, and neither did it need to be made a bigger deal than it should have been.

"Okay…" Carlisle mumbled not absolutely convinced it was nothing.

* * *

"It was one helluva coincidence she picked me but, it worked, didn't it?" Bella said as she held the phone next to her ear. She sat crosslegged on a plastic chair in front of a plexiglass window.

"I suppose," the voice on the other end answered as the lips behind the glass smiled. "You know what to do now."

"I can't!" Bella exclaimed worried. "I won't. They're wonderful people who wouldn't hurt anyone."

"They wouldn't? That bitch's father sure didn't have a hard time screwing over my boss, now did he?" The voice nearly yelled clearly annoyed with Bella lack of confidence.

"That was years ago. Besides, what does that matter anyway? Esme would never do anything to hurt anyone!"

"Now is that care I hear coming from you're voice Isabella? Don't tell me you're out because you fell in love with that son of a bitch," the voice said referring to Carlisle.

Bella waited a few beats, staring at the face behind the window.

"I can't."

"Bella? You know they're up my ass about being here just because of you're stupid fucking plan? Need I remind you that if you don't, it's not going to be very hard to find you. You remember how easy it was last time?"

"Yes."

"That's a girl! One more thing, don't forget, if Aro finds you…it's both of our asses on the line including your _oh so precious Cullens_. Love you!"

"Go to hell James."

"I am in hell thanks to you."

Bella rose from the seat as James watched her leave.


	10. Victim

Hey guys! Back with another update here. I saw the reviews you left for the last chapter and it gave me motivation to getting around to writing this one. Thank you for the kind words and encouragement! Suppose it's safe to say, y'all are basically 'Team Esme'. :P

With that in mind, don't hate me for this chapter…

As always,

-Your daily dose of romance

* * *

"Alright, I'm headed out. I'll see you guys later!" Carlisle announced the next morning near the front door as he grabbed his coat off the rack and slid his head into his scarf.

"Okay," Esme answered as she walked up to him while Bella sat on a kitchen island stool. It was true that Esme was still annoyed with Carlisle but she'd given him a quick peck on the lips as she always had every morning before he headed off to work. With her kiss, she made him see that they stood at a stalemate—a kiss of peace.

"I love you!" She told him as he walked out the door and on to the patio.

"Yep. You too," was all her husband had to offer. Esme kitted her brows together at that. She didn't always expect him to continue on with their quirky ways of announcing their love for one another like they always had, rather it was just something they did.

"Love you more…" Esme mumbled as she watched Carlisle's car pull out of the driveway and on to the street. She closed the door and as she did, she felt like her and Carlisle were on a downward spiral. The first red flag she'd seen was when he hid himself away after he came home from work. She knew he was more than likely tired and he had every right to rest alone but he always said being on his feet all day never really bothered him.

The second red flag was why he stayed at the hospital so late. She knew he had patients to tend to and he had a moral duty to do so. That never bothered her either but it seemed, when he was at home, he was always somewhere else. He was never truly present like he used to be. If something bothered Esme, he used to ask about it, now either he never noticed or didn't care.

The third flag was his drinking that seemed to be a growing problem, not only for her, but for their marriage and his job. It wasn't the first time he'd ever gone to work a bit hungover but it was just not him, not the man he used to be anyway. He didn't drink because he knew he could, he drank to be social. He only drank a glass of wine or two with dinner, not an entire bottle every evening like he began to.

Thinking of these things made Esme suddenly feel ill. She took her medicine as Bella ate breakfast and went to lay down. She knew she had to go to work but it seemed like a lost cause now. She was too sick. She was too tired. She was too sick and tired of being sick and tired.

She was nauseated and just the idea alone made her stomach churn. She had very little energy and whatever she had was burned within the first few hours of being awake. She'd lost weight because she had no appetite and walking had become a small hurdle because it hurt. Both Esme's doctor and friend, Brett, had explained the symptoms of her sickness and the fact that they might get worse as the cancer grew. Simply put, Esme was hurting.

She was hurting in every which way, both physically and emotionally but she refused to become a victim. She refused to become a victim and another cancer patient. She refused to have her husband continue on in his self-destructive patterns that would only fester like a wound.

Yes, she was troubled, but it had been something that was familiar to her. She was lying to herself about her current situation but that was something that she knew all too well. She was terrified, confused, upset, tired…sick.

She had her fair share of 'skeletons in the closet' as some might say. These skeletons she dare not remove and bury for fear of her husband seeing the destruction in their wake. Esme knew if they were to be dealt with, they would ruin her and so she refused to think about them. All this Esme knew, but she was done with it.

She was going to fight her illness to her dying day when she either died in the hospital not much older than she is now, or she was going to die an old, frail woman with grey hair and a story.

She refused to die, she wasn't ready, not yet anyway and if Carlisle wasn't going to help her with healing, she was going to do it on her own. She didn't need him. She didn't need anyone. She's a strong, independent woman and she was going to fight.

She refused, no longer would she play the part that was seemingly written for her as the innocent victim. She would fight. She would begin this fight in the best way she knew how—advice. But first, she called into her office, told them she was sick and went to take a quick nap.

* * *

"Carlisle's been acting really weird lately," Esme explained as she sat with her neighbors and closest friends a few hours later. She still felt terribly ill but one would have only taken notice if she'd told them. She played her part of "the worried wife" remarkably well only because she really was worried about Carlisle even though he'd been less than helpful.

She did love him, she never denied it. She was also willing to help him along and stand him out on the monument she'd built instead of the gave he'd buried himself in. Perhaps that is what he meant when he'd told her she was his rock.

"What do you mean?" Irina asked as she sipped on a glass of water with a lemon mixed in with the ice-cubes. She was a tall woman with long, blond hair and a pale, narrow face.

"I don't know," Esme furrowed her brow, "it's just like the little things he used to do he doesn't do anymore. There was this other thing, but…"

"But what?" Martha asked.

"No, you're going to think it's stupid," Esme shook her head.

"You started it," Carmen told her, calling her out. Carmen was a short, little firecracker, nearly as short as Esme with wild hair that stuck out in every direction. The only direction it was given was it was twisted in naturally, tight curls.

"What is it?" Martha tried again.

"Fine," Esme gave. "Whenever one of us tells the other we love them the other says 'I love you more.' Like if I'd said it, he would say 'No you don't.' and then I'd say 'Yes, I do.' and you're going to say it's nothing but I'd told him I loved him before he left and nothing. He just said 'You too.' and that was it."

"You know what?" Carmen began jabbing her finger toward Esme, "He's not ready for a baby."

"No, he wants the baby more than I do," Esme told them as she playfully swatted Carmen's finger away.

"Are you sure?" Zafrina, who was naturally the quietest, spoke up. She was a gangly woman, with dark skin and dark hair. Her dark eyes were entrancing but her friends claimed it was simply because of her wicked eyeliner that always seemed to be perfect no matter the time of day.

"…yeah, I'm sure," Esme told them but something in her voice or manner threw her off enough that they weren't convinced.

"You don't sound sure," Martha told her.

"Yes, he does," Esme said with more confidence.

"It's an affair!" Carmen exclaimed receiving odd looks from the other three women.

"No it isn't!" Esme was quick to defend.

"Well, have you guys…" she tried.

"What?" Esme asked sipping on her water.

"…you know, come together?"

"What?" Esme asked again through slitted eyes.

"As husband and wife lately?" Carmen finished.

"What are you getting at?" Esme questioned unsure of what Carmen was trying to say. She brought her glass to her lips for another sip of her water.

"I'm trying to be as subtle as I can and Esme, you're not making it easy. Have you been servicing the needs of your husband and has he been servicing your's?"

"Oh God!" Esme coughed as some of the water had gone down the wrong tube, "Carmen!"

"What? It's one of the signs of an affair," she defended.

"Carlisle is not having an affair!" Esme claimed.

"How do you know? It's not like they leave out balloons when they're doing the dirty!"

Esme laughed at that. She was glad to have her friends, they took her mind off of more important matters as they jibbed and joked with each other. They made her feel human. They made her feel better. They knew she was sick but they didn't mourn her, not yet anyway.

"I doubt it," Esme smiled. "Besides, have you seen Carlisle even try to lie? He's terrible."

"But that's when you knew he was lying," Martha began. "He probably made it obvious because he didn't want to upset you. You know he's sensitive about those kinds of things."

"Yeah, and him sleeping with some broad isn't going to upset me!" Esme joked, "Makes perfect sense!" She exclaimed as they all bursted out laughing.

"We're just saying," Martha said as the laugher died down, "as your closest friends and partners in crime. Don't rule it out."

"Whatever," Esme sighed.

"Now, what's going to be the baby's name?"

* * *

"Thank you," Carlisle said as he stood near the nurse's station at the hospital. He'd just finished his examination of his most recent patient.

"You're welcome, doctor," the nurse behind the station smiled. Carlisle looked at her through his eyelashes and gave her a lopsided smile that could stop a train in it's tracks and make any woman faint.

"I'm here to see Dr. Cullen," Carlisle heard someone, a woman, explain.

"He's right over there," someone else mumbled as they indicated to the doctor.

"Thank you."

Carlisle looked up and was surprised to see a rather unexpected visitor.

"Bella?" Carlisle began walking over as she felt her stomach flutter as he said her name. "What are you doing here?" He asked with genuine enthusiasm.

"Surprised to see me?" Bella smiled as the doctor had come to stand next to her.

"Yes," Carlisle said as he looked around for prying eyes. He believed no one paid them any attention as they were busy with their work.

"Should I go?" Bella asked unsure.

"No! Of course not," Carlisle replied. "I was just about to go on a break anyway. Maybe we could grab lunch?" He offered.

"That sounds perfect," Bella smiled to which the doctor returned.

"But I really have to ask," Carlisle started, "what are you doing here?"

"What?" Bella asked innocently. "I can't see the father of the child that's growing inside me?"

"Shh!" Carlisle hushed quickly as his head shot up looking for anyone of note who might have heard.

"What?"

"I just…I don't want people getting the wrong idea."

"It's not like those types of things are illegal you know."

"Still. I know some people have relationships like an affair and…"

"Is that an offer, Dr. Cullen?" Bella asked as she took what Carlisle thought was a jokingly seductive step toward him. He gave no reply and instead laughed it off. He sighed and shook his head as his smile still graced his face.

"Anyway, is there anything you need to do before we head out?" Bella asked with her eyes never leaving his.

"No, I've just got to get my coat," Carlisle told her as he began walking toward his office. Bella stood there unsure of what to do so she bit her lip and stood awkwardly.

"Wanna see where I spent most of my time?" Carlisle turned and asked when he didn't hear footsteps following him.

"Sure," Bella nodded and quickly caught up with the man to whom her affections were for.

"Come on."

They walked along the hall and passed several rooms until they were met with an oak door with a large pane of translucent glass.

 _Carlisle Cullen, M.D._ were printed in black letters in the window at eye height. The man to whom the office belonged opened the door and allowed Bella to step inside first. Two of the four walls were paneled with books, most all of which were medical journals of sorts. Others were book ends to keep the tidiness. The wall closest to the door was painted a simple tea green to match the large green plant that sat in the furthest corner. Several appropriate works of art hung off the wall in a manner that suggested the owner of this office had taste.

There was a small couch that sat in front of this wall that directly faced the large stained wooden desk. The desk was littered haphazardly with manilla folders that stood on their own half a foot upward. This covered a single picture of what Bella could only assume would be Esme. There were other amenities like pens and pencils that sat in a holder, a stapler, a laptop computer and several other things Bella couldn't see over the folders.

All together, it was as ordinary as an office could be but simply because it was Carlisle's, Bella loved it. She'd finally seen the place were Carlisle spent his mornings, his afternoons and an increasing number of nights when he wasn't at home. She'd finally been able to see where he sat, where he worked, and quite possibly, where he could 'play'.

She waltzed over to the bookshelf with all the grace she could manage, which wasn't much, and picked out the first thing she saw. It wasn't a medical textbook nor was it a published book, it was a manuscript. Bella looked at Carlisle curiously as he retrieved his coat of the coat hanger that stood poised near the door.

"Oh, you've found it," Carlisle said as he folded his coat over his forearm and walked toward her.

"I must say, hiding something in plain sight is a really bad hiding spot."

"Really? I find that the best secrets are always in plain sight because they're not hidden which makes them so much easier to overlook."

"Spoken like a true liar."

Carlisle said nothing at that as he stared Bella down and dared her to say another word.

"What is it?" Bella asked turning her attention back to the pages instead of the illusive demeanor Carlisle had seemed to have taken.

"It's a book," Carlisle explained. "It's a book that I've been writing."

"I didn't know you wrote," Bella told him as she flipped through the pages too fast for any information to have actually been taken.

"It's not something I share lightly. There are too many people who are willing to judge whether something is to be taken seriously or is not to be taken at all."

"What's it about?" Bella asked curiously as she turned her attention back to Carlisle.

"It's not about anything. It's about everything and nothing. It's random thoughts that I have when I'm working and when I'm at home. It's about characters that I make up but it's also about people I know," Carlisle explained as he slid the pages out of Bella's hands. "It's why I've been spending most of my time here than at home."

"It's going to sound stupid but, why'd you write it?" She asked as she let the pages leave. She didn't miss the fact that he said his writings were not shared lightly or the fact that he was now taking said writings back.

"I've had a lot on my mind. When I read what I've written, it helps my mind think more clearly. But maybe it's because the stories and thoughts are about something. Take high school for example or college and things we do at that time in our lives. It basically defines who we are and what we'll become later on in life. I believe everyone has a story to tell, everyone. Some event from their past, that they feel the need to…to share with another person. Why? We all want someone to understand who we are. This is who I am…this is who I was and who I'd like to become," Carlisle said indicating to the manuscript.

"Why not publish it?"

"I'm too afraid of what people might say," Carlisle explained as he shifted his weight and stood closer to her, "I met this girl once and I really liked her. It was years ago before I even met Esme, but she wasn't someone who I could tell certain things to. When I thought I could trust her enough, I let her read something that I'd written and what I'd written meant a lot to me. It was something that I never shared and she laughed in my face. I never forgot that. Bella…Bells," Carlisle began. They stood so close that Bella could feel the ghost of Carlisle's breath on her face.

"When I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I'm looking for pity. It just means that I trust you," he told her staring into her dark eyes as she stared back into his light green ones. "But even then, there are some things things I can't tell you. There are some things I can't tell Esme. There are some things that I don't even want to tell myself. This is one of them," Carlisle said as he stepped even closer to Bella. Using his thumb and forefinger, he guided her head toward his. He wanted to kiss her. The temptation tortured him and flowed like red wine. He was almost persuaded to strip himself of the ring that tied himself to Esme, the ring that promised there was only one woman. He nearly pushed his conscious aside.

"I need you," Bella whispered stepping closer. "Take me away from here and be with me."

"But Esme…" Carlisle said looking into her eyes. He saw his reflection but it grew into more. It grew into the reflection of a nasty divorce and a new marriage to Bella whom Carlisle thought was little more than a child compared to him.

"Don't you love me?"

"I…I don't know. Maybe…" he was almost persuaded to let Bella's strange, unfamiliar lips lead him away. But Esme's sweet, gentle, familiar love made him stop and turn away.


	11. Love Crazy

Hey guys! I wanted to sincerely thank you guys for the lovely comments. They gave me a little lump in my throat and a little fuzzy feeling in my heart to know that there are people who like this story.

This story means a lot to me because when I was writing _Between the Darkness and Dawn_ , I had the idea to write something like this, and I thought, "Hey, why the hell not?". So that idea turned into a few scribbles of notes, those notes turned into chapters, and those chapters turned into this story. But I've had this idea for a really long time and I'm glad that amazing people, like you, are willing to read it and give me feedback.

As I was re-reading what I'd written to make sure it made sense, I was thinking about how this story came to be. It came to be because of you guys, because knowing that it was being read and well-liked gave me the motivation to continue writing.

You ask me to keep updating this story? Well, I'm thanking you for giving me a reason!

As always,

-Your daily dose of romance

P.S. The ending of this chapter was inspired by the song, _Work Song_ by Hozier.

* * *

'Maybe...' wasn't enough for Bella. It would never be enough. There would always be some part of Carlisle that would never completely belong to her unless Esme was gone, unless she was out of the picture. So, to force his mind from the thoughts of his wife, Bella grabbed at Carlisle's head and used so much force to push him down to her height that he nearly lost his footing and stumbled to regain whatever balance he could manage.

She nearly clawed at his face, and forced his lips into her's in an intense kiss.

"Isabella!" Carlisle interrupted, "Please…" he whispered when he gently pushed her away and she'd finally let his lips go from her own.

"Why not?" She asked as she still held him close. Any moment now, someone could walk into Carlisle's office and see the two in their rather uncompromising position. He knew if someone saw them in their current situation, they would tell his wife and she would never forgive him. So much as Esme knew, Carlisle would have betrayed her.

"I made a promise to _my wife…_ " he emphasized the last two words that escaped his lips. "I love her, respect her and can never betray her trust. Not after I…" he stopped before he let the words escape his lips. As he said them, he wondered if they were really _his_ words. Did he really, truly love her? When they'd first began to talk after that fateful day she was rushed into the emergency ward of this very hospital, Carlisle knew he did, but the woman in his arms made him beg a differ.

"Then tell me to stop," Bella demanded as she ran her fingers down Carlisle's chest and painfully close to his groin that unwilling began to pulse and twitch beneath the fabric of his pants as Bella brought her fingers up and back down again. Carlisle blinked his eyes hard and fast and inhaled a shaky breath as he finally pulled his face away from Bella's. Shamefully, he turned his head away from her's, his jaw clenched, his eyes blinked and remained shut.

"Please…Bella," Carlisle began through his clenched jaw, "I care about you. Really…I do," he swallowed the saliva that formed in his mouth.

"Just say the words. Just tell me to stop," she whispered in his ear seductively. The heat from her breath lingered on his skin and sent chills down the doctor's neck. He shivered again.

"S…sss" he tried and failed. The stutter he suffered from his childhood and into his teenage years seemed to be resurfacing much like it did when he attempted to purposefully lie. He tried again but the single word turned into another sigh. Bella took that as a sign and forced his head to face her's. She looked into his eyes that hazed over and seemed to be anywhere her face wasn't and she kissed him again.

 _What the fuck are you doing Carlisle?!_ He thought as his mouth began to wonder over Bella's when her tongue entered his mouth and he did not object, only that was as far as he'd gotten. So many things came surfacing all at once, so many thoughts, about Esme and her sickness and what she would do if she found out. His thoughts also lingered around Bella, but he didn't even want to go there. However slowly, his thoughts faded into nothing; his hands, through no thought of his own, gently came to rest on Bella's hips and lower back as he pulled her closer. He finally, but shamefully knew what it was like to kiss her.

 _Different than Esme's lips._

 _Forceful._

 _Heated._

 _Intense…seducing…_

"I'm just…I need…" Carlisle breathed when the kiss had broken.

"What is it?" Bella asked.

"I need to…" the doctor began. Just then, someone knocked on the door.

"Dr. Cullen?"

They both stepped away as Bella blushed and Carlisle looked more than angry, whether it was the disruption or Bella, neither knew.

"What?" He asked rudely. The intruder walked into the room and felt the weight within. To Carlisle, the flooring of his office suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the universe though he'd walked on it nearly every day.

"We need you," the nurse meekly told Carlisle.

"I'll be out in a second," he answered as he clenched his jaw.

"Okay," the nurse replied as she closed the door behind herself.

"I have to go," the doctor whispered without looking at Bella only continuing to stare at the floor.

"I know. I'll see you later?" Bella asked hopefully. Carlisle's only answer was a brisk walk, the sound of the door opening with more force than necessary and a slam as he left his office and walked back out into the main hospital.

Bella was left in the office alone. She was alone and something in her snapped.

 _It's all Esme's fault,_ she ranted though the words were left unsaid.

 _If only she was gone…if only she was removed completely! If only she was dead, Carlisle would love me! He has to!_

Her hands shook as she picked up the manuscript and flipped through the pages skimming what she thought might interest her. She decided to take the damned thing for all the interesting secrets it might hold. Bella walked out of the office with the pages in her hands, her head held high and her shoulders pushed back. She received looks from a few of the hospital's workers and she assumed they found her attractive.

 _Who wouldn't?_ She thought benignly as she took small confidence in their quick stares.

 _Carlisle's an idiot if he can't see how much better I am than 'poor, sick Esme'…Esme is nothing. Nothing but dust floating amidst the air I breath,_ Bella mocked Esme and how much of a conniving, arrogant woman Bella thought she was.

 _All she's done is hidden bad secrets behind Carlisle's good name. She doesn't really love him, not like I do._

Bella left the hospital with a bit more than she bargained for. Truthfully, she wasn't exactly sure of what happened. She needed time to think but it was running out. She need more time and just the thought alone made her anxious.

Time.

 _I need time,_ Bella thought because she'd wasted whatever allotted time was given to her. She knew it well enough.

* * *

"Hey Bella!" Esme exclaimed as Bella walked through the front door of the house.

"Hi," she mumbled still too full of hatred to even look at Esme.

"Where were you?" She asked and before Bella could answer, continued on, "I wanted you to meet a few of my friends but I couldn't find you," she explained.

"I went out for a bit. Starting to get cabin fever being cooped up all the time, you know?" Bella said finally looking at Esme. The doctor's wife was given a smile she felt almost threatened by.

"Yeah, I do that from time to time," Esme told Bella eyeing her curiously. "I've been meaning to ask you about something," she pressed.

"What?" Bella sighed out of annoyance.

"Come," Esme asked aware of Bella's hostility but was unsure if it was directed towards her or not. "Sit with me?"

"I would but I'm kind of thirsty," she said curtly and redirected the conversation in the kitchen.

"Have you noticed Carlisle's been acting a little odd lately?" Esme asked as she stood near the open threshold.

"I'm not sure. I have noticed some things but I've only known you guys for a few months," Bella said as she reached for a glass from out of one of the cupboards.

"Yeah…" Esme sighed, "yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Something on your mind?" Bella asked though she didn't really care.

"I don't know. I mean, I know that Carlisle's been acting strange lately," the doctor's wife explained.

"You haven't really been yourself either. Suppose it's difficult," Bella said neither turning to look at Esme or even trying to be friendly.

"What do you mean?" She asked furrowing her brow at Bella's turned back.

"I know you're lying," Bella told her with no sincerity but complete honesty, "to yourself, to him, to me. Hell," she continued through a devious smile, "if you were smart, you wouldn't be lying to any of us. I'm not stupid. I know who you are."

"Bella?"

"I know about your father," she continued before Esme had a chance to say anything else.

"What?"

"I know that your father was a two-faced criminal who ratted out my husband's boss," Bella explained through gritted teeth. It was true, she hated James but she hated Esme even more. She hated her because Esme had everything and Bella had nothing. Esme had everything Bella ever wanted.

Esme had beauty. She was smart. She had money. But beyond everything else, Esme had Carlisle.

"I know what happened," Bella began again, "and let me tell you something, if and when Aro gets a hold of you, you better start praying."

"Bella?" Esme asked completely speechless at not only her actions but why she'd decided to combat Esme in such a terrifying manner.

"NO!" Bella screamed throwing the glass in the sink shattering it into dozens of pieces. "It's not your turn to talk now! It's mine. I know your father worked with Aro. We both know that. I know that it's because of your father, Aro has had to spend over twenty years in prison. That's how the two met, James and Aro I mean. They were cellmates," Bella laughed though all of her humor was out of the equation.

Her laugh was manic, demented. Bella's sick laughter alone was enough to tear Esme. What ever resolve or nerve Esme had managed to scrounge together was broken. It was broken by the woman Esme trusted to carry her child.

"Bella your scaring me," she shuttered.

"You should be scared," Bella deadpanned turning back to meet Esme's tear-filled eyes. "I've invaded your home. Very soon, I will have taken your husband and your baby. Hell, if it wasn't for me you'd never have the baby," Bella laughed again staring at Esme as she was nearly broken. "If you say one word to anyone about anything, I swear, I'll take a knife to it," Bella threatened indicating to the small baby bump. "I can cut it out just as easily as it was put inside me. I can take a coat hanger to it. I can take a nasty fall down the stairs."

"Why are you doing this?" Esme asked as her tears slipped down her cheeks at the mention of Carlisle leaving and her child once again never living past the womb.

"Because Carlisle doesn't deserve someone like you!" Bella yelled as she paced around the kitchen. "He deserves better and I can give that to him."

"You're crazy…" Esme said though she didn't trust her voice to make much more than a whisper.

"Perhaps," Bella agreed, "but, _I_ prefer to think of it as love crazy. You wonder why Carlisle's been acting so odd?" She asked mockingly. "When he makes love to you, it's my face he sees," Bella told Esme breaking whatever resolve was left of the poor wife. "When your baby is born, it comes from my body. Look at you," Bella laughed, "You're nothing but a dying wife with a husband who doesn't love you. I have everything to offer and what do you have?" Bella asked comparing them, though she would disregard everything Esme said. "I can give him the family he's always wanted. _You are nothing,_ " Bella told her. "Nothing but a walking corpse. You asked me to watch over Carlisle? I'll do much more than that. I promise," Bella assured. Suddenly, she stopped pacing the kitchen and turned away because Esme simply disgusted Bella beyond any words she could describe through her limited vocabulary.

She turned back to Esme and had a look only in comparison to a psychopath.

"Bella put down the knife," Esme said watching Bella turn away with a chef's knife that was left on the counter.

"NO! I want you know who's in charge. If I have to, I can kill you," Bella said circling around Esme like an animal. "I can do it, right now if that's what you want. I've done it before. It's not difficult. The only thing is, you're not worth the trouble."

* * *

 _Three drunken days later…_

Esme sat there for what seemed like hours but in real time was only about forty minutes. The only light she had came from the paneling above the kitchen stove as the sun had gone down and Carlisle had gone to bed. Esme noticed he completely avoided both herself and Bella.

"That little bitch…" Esme hiccuped as she sat at the island with two bottles of wine. One was already empty and the other was well on it's way to catching up with it's cupboard mate. She'd been drinking and was nearing on her third drunken night.

Within the past seventy-two hours, she hadn't slept in fear of Bella. She hadn't eaten because what little appetite she had was gone. The only thing that gave her body sustenance was the wine she continued to drink and even that was beginning to lower within the Cullens' wine cupboard.

She couldn't do anything else. She couldn't continue on. Whatever nerve she had was lost after her rather threatening conversation with Bella what seemed like only hours before.

She stared down the wine glass and she found, the longer she stared, it multiplied. What was only one, she saw three separate glasses, each filled to the brim at the same level. As she reached for it, she saw eight fingers on one hand.

When she finally did manage to grab the glass, she'd reached for the wrong glass and picked up it's brother. This spilled the original so the other two followed suit. She heard the muffled sound of glass breaking as the drink mixed in with the shards. She decided against taking another glass for fear of it breaking along with it's mate as well so she reached for the half-empty bottle.

"Huh…" she grumbled, "it's _half-em…_ " she tried but her hiccup prevented her sentence from further continuance.

"It's _half-empty…_ " she mumbled again as she took a swig. She picked herself up but the floor shifted underneath her and she nearly tripped. Taking the bottle, she staggered up the stairs. She very nearly walked into her bedroom to confront Carlisle about something she couldn't remember when she heard the sound of a crying child, more specifically, a baby.

Furrowing her brow and doing a double-take, she turned her head but when she did, the world spun too fast for her feet to catch up and she fell spilling the rest of the wine and knocking down a picture frame that hung onto the wall. She left the frame where it lay shattered on the floor and picked up the now empty bottle. Still, she heard the crying and decided to investigate further. She picked herself up and when her feet were placed as firmly as could be on the shifting carpet, she walked down the hall toward the cries. She followed the noise and continued to stagger down the hall until she came upon a closed door.

Behind the door, she heard the cries louder than before and as she swung it open, she was greeted with the source of the noise. Laying in the nursery crib, was a baby swaddled in a blanket as the baby's arms wiggled about.

Esme set her bottle down on a shelf and went to the crib. She picked up the child, and when she did, the world stopped shifting. The night was no longer, instead it was during the day as the warm sun peeked into the open window.

 _"_ _Aw, it's alright little baby…" Esme cooed. She held the child within her arms as she settled into the rocking chair near the window. Outside, she heard the sound of chirping birds._

 _"_ _You hear that?" Esme asked as the baby studied her mother's face._

 _"_ _Those are called birds, sweetie," she said as she rocked in the chair._

 _"_ _Momma!" Esme heard a little voice call like the sound of music._

 _"_ _What have I told you about yelling in the house?" Esme asked though she was not angry with the boy that walked into the room with mud in his jeans and dirt on his face._

 _"_ _Honey!" Esme laughed at the state of her son. "Go get washed up. Your father is making dinner and it will be done here in a few minutes. If you think that I'm going to let you eat at the table in that state, you may just as well live outside with the dog."_

 _"_ _That's okay!" The boy began excited about the idea of living with the dog. "I love him," he said as he stepped further into the room._

 _"_ _Come here," Esme gestured to her son as she still held the baby in her arms._

 _"_ _I love you. I want you to know that, but sweetie, you stink."_

 _"_ _Love you too, momma," the boy laughed. "You smell pretty." Esme gave her son a quick kiss on his brow and a small tap on his bottom._

 _"_ _Only because I don't go rolling around in the backyard. Now, get a move on!" Esme told her son as he skipped out of the room and down the hall. She heard the bathroom door close and the water from the faucet running. Esme turned her attention back to the child who hummed and gurgled._

 _"_ _Es!" She heard someone call from downstairs. Just the sound of his voice calling her name made her smile and her heart flutter with a loving warmth. With the baby still cradled in her mother's arm, Esme went down to meet Carlisle. She stood looking down from the landing as Carlisle leaned his weight on the small table at the foot of the stairs. He looked at her and smiled._

 _He was her Carlisle._

 _She was his Esme._

 _"_ _It's time for dinner," Carlisle told her when Esme reached him at the bottom of the stairs and gave her a quick peck on the lips._

 _"_ _I miss this…" Esme explained as she pressed her forehead against Carlisle's chest._

 _"_ _Missed what honey?" Carlisle asked holding her in a warm hug as she held their daughter._

 _"_ _You…"_

 _"_ _What do you mean? I've always been here."_

I wish that was true… _Esme thought._

 _"Yeah. I know," she sighed as Carlisle gave her a quick squeeze for reassurance._

 _"_ _Hello pretty girl," Carlisle said taking the child from Esme, "Now where's that little munchkin of ours?" He joked._

 _"_ _He's washing up for dinner," she told him as she watched Carlisle coo over the baby in his arms. She smiled and a small tear welled in her eyes._

 _"_ _Esme?" Carlisle asked when he looked up seeing the tear stream down her cheek. "What's wrong?"_

 _"_ _Nothing. Just thinking that I love you."_

 _"_ _I love you more," Carlisle told her knowing it would bring a smile to her face._

 _"_ _No. You don't."_

 _"_ _Yes, I do," Carlisle said as he kissed Esme's hair. It had worked—she smiled even brighter._

 _"_ _I washed my hands!" the boy's small voice announced from the top of the stairs._

 _"_ _And you face?" Esme asked as she still studied Carlisle's face as he did her's._

 _"_ _Yep!"_

 _"_ _Good," Carlisle began. Before he walked over to the table, he set his baby girl down on the couch and to make sure she wouldn't fall, placed a pillow on the side of her that wasn't blocked by the backrest. He sat down with Esme and their son to eat dinner._

 _It was while they were eating, Esme thought of her life. It was then she realized she didn't know the boy's birthday._

When was he born? _She thought._

How old is he?

When was the baby born?

 _"_ _How old is the baby?" She asked turning to Carlisle as he asked about their son's homework._

 _"_ _Esme?" Carlisle asked. He turned to look at her worried._

 _"_ _What's your name?" Esme asked the boy that sat directly across from her._

 _"_ _Esme?" Carlisle asked again though it sounded like is voice was everywhere all at once._

 _"_ _I can't…I…" she tried._

 _"_ _Esme? Esme?" Carlisle asked again as he stood from his chair and went to kneel in front of her's._

 _"_ _Momma?" The boy asked._

 _"_ _I…breathe…"_

"Esme! Esme! Come on…answer me…Esme?" Carlisle cried out as he knelt beside her as she lay on the floor of the nursery near the crib.


	12. Alive or Dead?

I am so sorry this took forever but I wasn't sure about how to write it. I knew what I wanted but I wasn't sure about how to explain.

I did see the reviews that told me to hurry and update so, here you are! Just for that, you all get a chapter that's just a bit longer but be warned! I can't say what's going to happen but you can't say I didn't warn you! :P

Thank you all for the kind, lovely words and encouragement!

As always,

-Your daily dose of romance

* * *

 _A few minutes before…_

Carlisle woke with a start to the sound of shattering glass. In the darkness, he instinctively reached for Esme's side of the bed only to find that she wasn't there. Sleepy and delirious, he walked into the master bathroom to look for her. She wasn't there either.

He flicked on the light and strewed his eyes shut just as the harsh lighting caught his sensitive eyes. Blinking away the sensitivity, he ran the faucet to wake himself and splashed a handful of water on his face.

"Es?" He called out after drying himself with a bath towel and replacing on the rack. When she didn't answer, he became worried. He walked out of the bedroom and into the hall where his hands brushed the wall to use as a guide. Nothing seemed amiss until stepped onto the wet carpet. He knelt over and saw the outline of a large stain that, in the darkness, could easily be mistaken for blood. Using his hands, he felt the carpet. When he brought his fingers near his face, that's when he smelled it.

 _Red wine…_ he thought. He knew the smell. He further investigated the scene and saw a broken picture frame as the glass was shattered into pieces and the frame itself could not be mended.

Carlisle grew even more worried as he stood in the darkness.

 _She's wandering around the house in the middle of the night…_ He thought as he stepped away from the wine that was sure to stain the carpet.

"She's either going to accidentally hurt herself or she's going to break more furniture," he sighed as he shook his head. He squinted down the hall and through the blackness that came with the night, he saw one of the bedroom doors wide open as the moon peeked in the window and cast it's dim lighting into the floor.

 _Crash!_

Something had broken. Something large and Carlisle ran. The sound struck like lightning, sudden and crackling, forcing his feet to move faster and his legs to take longer stride.

"Esme?" He called out under his breathlessness as he ran. Carlisle knew she was drunk, the stain in the carpet told him as much. He went to the open door and found himself in the nursery. He stormed in to confront her and demand she go to bed and as he walked into the room, Esme was no where to be found.

He squinted harder and scanned the room. That's when he saw it. He saw it but his mind refused believe what his eyes saw. The mound made of arms and legs, of dark hair and round hips. It slumped on the floor on top several large pieces of wood and a small but growing stain very much like the red wine. She laid there and never did Carlisle take notice that Esme's skin had the early beginnings of bruises along with scratches and cuts sure to leave scars however small.

"Esme?" Carlisle asked as he stumbled over in the darkness as his bare feet stepped into several splinters of wood. His knees buckled out from under him at the state of his wife and he collapsed next to her. He picked her up into his arms with her back resting against his crouched knee.

"What's wrong?" He asked stupidly. He felt a warm, oozing liquid pool into his thigh and run down the side of his leg.

"Thinking…" she sighed as Carlisle moved her hair away from her face, "love…you…" she whispered in blissful delirium.

"Love you more," Carlisle told her in an attempt to keep her talking.

"No. You don't…" she mumbled as a small tear slipped out of her closed eye and into her pale cheek.

"Yes, I do," he said as he assessed her injuries within whatever lighting the moon outside deemed adequate.

"Say something to me…" Carlisle urged as he continuously moved her from one side to the other.

"…face…" Carlisle thought she hissed as his dominate hand came to squeeze the side of Esme's body that he thought seemed to be bleeding the most.

"Good," Carlisle assessed in any attempt to keep Esme in whatever consciousness her body could manage.

"How…old…baby…" Esme mumbled in what was nothing to Carlisle but gibberish sleep.

"Esme?" Carlisle demanded though his voice was as calm as he could manage.

"…your name?" She sighed.

"Esme?"

"I can't…I…" she mumbled as her already cough-like breathing shuttered.

"Esme?" Carlisle asked growing ever more concerned. "Esme?"

"Breathe…" she panicked.

"Esme! Esme! Come on…answer me…Esme?" Carlisle cried out as he knelt beside her as she lay on the floor of the nursery near the crib. That's when Carlisle looked up and suddenly realized, there was no crib. His heart and body shuttered at the same time.

Esme had broken it in her fall and in a last parting gift, the crib had stabbed Esme. Carlisle shifted her body gently and as she was moved, he felt something that made his heart stop. He decided it was quite large as a stake from the nursery stabbed Esme on the side of her back.

He felt this large, alien object and he panicked.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen was always a sure man, until he was married. He always knew what he wanted and how to acquire what he needed for whatever his desire's required. He was more than confident in his abilities as a head-of-house, as well as his potential to be a strong father-figure and he knew how to comfort his wife under her times of distress. He was capable of many great things and he knew it.

He used to be strong both in the physical sense and within emotional empathy, but as Bella had come, he felt himself falter. He was caring, generous, and compassionate. Through all the things Carlisle had witnessed and paid criminal to, it was these three traits he'd kept though it all. He was more than smart, he supposed every doctor had to be.

People called Carlisle a hero like he was some sort of Superman or Spiderman though Carlisle's only power was several years of medical school and numerous years of simply put, being a doctor. Every time he saved someone's life, they thanked him and called him a hero. Of course he knew why, and he supposed, every superhero had a backstory and not all of the best-known superheroes were underdogs. But even through all this, he was still just a man.

 _"_ _I'm not a hero and I'm not ashamed to admit that…"_ He recalls having once said this to Bella. But the thought of Bella vanished from his mind as quickly as it had come.

Carlisle had his quirks: his old, vintage sneakers, his old taste in music, his ability to joke about important things, his refusal to acknowledge his political viewpoints and even when something excited him in anyway, his habit of either biting his lip, or clearing his throat with a quick cough. But right now, he couldn't think of that, he couldn't think of anything else other than Esme.

Esme, who called him a lover. To her, the definition of lover fell under several different categories: best friend, carer, supporter, comforter, personal heater and an incredible sexual partner.

Carlisle knew how to make women swoon and make them scream in ecstasy. He knew just how to shift his weight and how much pushing, licking, and tugging was necessary to make a woman moan his name at the top of her lungs.

Because of this, he was a liar. What had felt like days since he carried his terrible deed, was complete years. He knew how to gamble and play his cards so he held a straight flush. It was just so simple. Life was just so much simpler when he held another ace up his sleeve or when he stood so high, no one could see the flawed human being Carlisle Cullen really was.

Lying might have been one of the most deadly sins, but if no one knew…

Only, he couldn't lie to himself about his most current situation.

But above all this, above being the brother to a man who ran a majority of Forks' restaurants, above being an upstanding citizen of Forks, above being the husband to a wonderful designer, Carlisle was just a man. He didn't deserve a pedestal to be placed on or a crown atop his head. He was just a human being.

He was just a human being and he didn't know what to do. He was inarguably the best doctor within the Washington state and he didn't know. He didn't know what to do and he panicked.

He knew about the potential he carried and what he could do, but he didn't know how to fix Esme and just the idea stunned him. It stunned him and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't do anything.

"Bella!" Carlisle cried out at the top of his lungs hoping beyond hope that Bella was a light sleeper. A few moments later he heard the distinct sound of a door opening and feet shuffling out.

"Carli…what are you…" Bella began standing at the threshold of the nursery. Then, she saw Esme. "What happened?"

"She fell…ambulance," was all Carlisle could manage as he looked back down at Esme with tear-filled eyes. His tears, they were not of sorrow, but of worry and panic. Most of all, they were of self-loathing.

 _I'm so stupid,_ he thought.

 _I should have seen it somehow. I should have told her to stop…_

" _I should have told her to stop…_ " Carlisle voiced his thoughts under his breath. He took those careful several words placed exactly in that order and he tucked it away.

He'd think about that later.

"Humph…" Carlisle breathed as he waited for Bella at the phone.

After what had seemed like forever, the paramedics were barging down the door. As they lifted Esme on to the stretcher and out of Carlisle's arms, it had given Carlisle the most terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The feeling was of shame, fear, anxiety, it was all of these and more that gave Carlisle the feeling of nothing. He'd been filled to the brim with everything that had been going on but all that was left was nothing.

He was numb.

As the ambulance drove to the hospital, it's sirens bleeped and honked waking everything that came with the dark, and what seemed was only in Carlisle's case, sleepless night.

He sat there. He watched from afar the broken body of his wife. He watched but his eyes and mind refused to make the connection that the woman laying like Jane Doe was in fact, Esme Cullen.

Her body that enticed Carlisle with round hips and a small stature was broken in several places. Exactly where was a mystery until they reached the hospital. Her skin, what was once a smooth, olive completion had cuts and bruises. Her hair that always seemed to be the pinpoint of perfect was messed and knotted. Her face, a face that Carlisle had loved what seemed like a lifetime ago was left undamaged in Esme's drunken induced state, and still, Carlisle could not see his wife. He could not see his Esme.

He stared down at her and something in him made him terrified, not over his wife, but over himself.

"Do I really want her alive?" He asked himself so quietly that no one else heard him. He grimaced his face at such a thought and tried but to no avail, to correct his line of thinking. Finally, he could take no more of the thoughts, he could take no more of what his eyes saw and his hands and how they shook.

Carlisle felt the exact same way he had when he'd found her. He couldn't breathe like his lungs were getting no oxygen. He couldn't think, as too many thought passed and his mind could not keep up.

He was going down and he didn't know how far he was going to fall this time. He'd been going down since the day he said, "I do.". He'd been going down since the day he met the one woman whom he thought he unconditionally loved, the exact woman who's been lying to him since the day he met her. Esme Cullen, whom Carlisle could hate with all the damning hostility of love.

But now, she was a husk. She was a terrible copy of the woman Carlisle hated to love. Every screaming atom begged to be known that she was in fact, Esme. Every fiber of her being, every strand of D.N.A. said she was Esme but she wasn't.

All of the events that led to this moment took both Carlisle and Esme and every scrounging scrap of anything they could manage. It grew impossible for either of them to know each other because they were gone. Physically they both still lived together, but their minds had been elsewhere.

They each had swallowed their own lives of lies and they let them grow inside like a parasite, getting larger and larger until their lies ate away their insides and stared out their eyes and told them what to do, what to think and what to say.

Why? They were both lairs. They were both lovers. And Esme was Carlisle's hero.

But now, she needed saving and he hesitated.

"What's the point?" He asked under his breath as his brows furrowed at his own conversation.

"What's the point in saving her if she's dying anyway…" He shut his eyes as he rocked himself back and fourth hoping everything had been a dream.

No such luck.

When his eyes opened again, Esme was still there laying on the stretcher. What was supposed to be her face, to Carlisle, seemed like a woman he knew once upon a time, only for time itself to come along and destroy the already dark fantasies he'd been living for the past seven years.

"Do I really want her dead? What would _I_ prefer? Alive or dead? Alive or dead? Alive? Dead?"

 _Alive?_

 _Dead?_

 _Alive?_

 _Dead?_

Carlisle shook his head in any attempt to cleanse his mind of the terrible thoughts.

They never left.

They stayed until the ambulance stopped outside of the hospital with which Carlisle had been acquainted for nearly ten years. He waited in the back of the vehicle like a reaper. Silent and still until Esme was already in the hospital.

He continued to sit as the rain outside poured down on the already soaked suburban hospital.

"Carlisle?" Someone asked from somewhere outside as they stepped into Carlisle's line of sight toward the emergency doors of the hospital. The intruder shook the doctor out of his stares as he ignored them completely and stormed out of the ambulance and into the ward with which the doctor was most familiar.

Carlisle took the first seat that caught his line of sight and sat. He tapped his heels on the linoleum flooring his feet were already too familiar with. He held his head in his hands too afraid to look at anyone he knew and he knew everyone. He felt their noiseless stare of daggers as they scoffed at him for reasons he knew not.

He held his face with his eyes in the palms of his hands until he saw stars dancing out from the random squiggles of blackness and still his hands stayed put. They stayed because Carlisle feared if they were to be removed then his unshed tears might begin to fall.

 _I should be in there…_ He thought.

 _I know better than anyone what's wrong with her. I could help her better than they ever could._

"But do I even want her alive?" He asked just a bit louder than he meant. He picked his head up to scan the immediate area for any listeners. No one was there.

Carlisle was alone.

He waited for hours but what seemed like days as his thoughts plagued his mind and drove him near insanity. He hadn't slept for nearly forty-two hours but his body wasn't tired.

"Every dream I have is with her, only to die in the face of reality," he mumbled as his thoughts tore him in two and the two turned into four, four into eight, eight into sixteen, sixteen into thirty-two and they continuously multiplied over and over until nothing was left of Carlisle but a small pile of dust.

Dust that used to be a doctor. Dust that used to be a husband. Dust that used to be a man, but he felt like anything else.

 _What kind of man would want his own wife dead?_ He thought. He was far too lost in his own mind so he hadn't seen as Brett went to take the seat next to Carlisle.

"What was that?" Brett asked.

"Nothing…just thinking," Carlisle answered not picking up his head though he knew exactly who the man was.

"Carlisle, Esme's medication for her chemotherapy has been known to cause hallucinations, and in rare cases, narcolepsy when mixed with alcohol. But there's something else," Brett began, "something I need to know."

"What?" He asked but his voice hadn't put nearly enough effort as it was going toward his thoughts.

Brett waited a moment unsure of how to say what he needed.

"I'm not sure how to say this…but Esme's injuries were consistent…with abuse."

"What?" Carlisle asked finally lifting his head from his hands.

"I just need to ask a few questions…" the family friend began.

"You know me!" Carlisle interrupted and absolutely disturbed at the thought of himself even hurting Esme which brought him back to the idea of wanting his wife dead.

"I know, but Carlisle, you know it's mandatory if the doctor thinks that something is going on," Brett made clear.

"You have to be kidding?" Carlisle laughed though all the humor was gone.

"What was Esme doing when you found her?" Brett asked.

"She was just laying there…" Carlisle breathed refusing to relive the horror he'd just witnessed.

"How have things been at home?" The doctor asked as he wrote a few things down on a clipboard he kept in his lap.

"Wh…how…" Carlisle stuttered. "You're not serious! You think I would do that to my wife?!" He exploded in the empty waiting area. He stood from the chair and began to pace the empty room.

"Carlisle, please. Calm down," Brett calmly demanded.

"No! Don't tell me to calm down!" He yelled. "My wife is lying in that room," Carlisle indicated toward the inpatient wing, "and you think I did that to her! Jesus Brett! I thought you knew me!"

"Carlisle…" the doctor began.

"I didn't do it alright?" Carlisle blinked away the quick anger and breathed in a sigh to calm himself.

"Okay, but as your friend and as your professional equal, I'm going to ask that you take a few days off," Brett explained but Carlisle paid no attention. "I feel like you're going to need it to help Esme and to get some rest. Carlisle?"

"What?"

"Do you hear me?" Brett asked as Carlisle retook his seat. "As your friend, I think I have the right to say frankly, you look like shit."

"Humph…is it really that bad?" Carlisle asked as he ran his fingers though his hair and had come to brush the stubble Carlisle had on his cheeks.

"Yes," Brett deadpanned as he stood readying himself back to his duties. "Carlisle I do know you. I know you'd never do anything to hurt Esme. I was just concerned because neither of you seem like yourselves."

"How can we? She's dying, we've got a baby on the way, and I'm suffering from a bit of alcoholism," Carlisle explained shamefully as both his hand and his head dropped in unison.

"Are you?" Brett asked worriedly. "We have treatment programs…" he began.

"No," Carlisle stopped him before he could continue. "No. We'll get it under control," he said though he knew it wouldn't be fixed, only ignored. "Things have just kind of been everywhere lately."

"Well, okay. You know any time you need a friend, I'm here."

"Yeah, I know," Carlisle gave Brett a small, sorrowful smile. "Thanks."

"Esme's awake, if you want to talk to her."

Carlisle said nothing but gave a small nod of his head still unsure about everything.

* * *

The next evening Carlisle came home. He quietly opened the door as the hour was nearly twelve at night and wasn't sure if Bella was still awake. The effects of not having slept for the past several days dawned onto Carlisle and he felt inhumanly tired.

He yawned and kicked off his shoes by the door and as he walked up to the second story steps, he peeled off his t-shirt and held it in his hand. Every light in the house seemed to be off save for flickering beams coming from his own bedroom as he saw the thin, string of lighting under the closed door.

Curiosity took hold of him and he ventured further down the hall. He felt no need to knock as the bedroom was his own but as he stepped in, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Bella was there, sitting on the vanity waiting for his return.

"What are you doing?" Carlisle asked as he shielded his eyes from Bella's almost completely naked frame. The only thing she used to cover herself was a thin, satin robe. The light from the furniture dimly lit her face and the only other lighting in the room came from the blazing fireplace.

Bella sat before the mirror as she brushed her hair using Esme's brush. She stood from the vanity after she prettied herself with things that were not her's.

Bella used Esme's perfume.

She used Esme's makeup.

She wore her earrings.

Bella even went so far as to use Esme's red lipstick.

When asked, she had absolutely no explanation and truthfully, she herself was not entirely sure of what she was doing. One moment she held the house phone next to her ear, the next, she was dressed exactly like Esme might have. The entire rest of the day was blank.

She stood up purposefully sticking out her chest and bottom but pretending not to notice.

"What have I been doing? Waiting for you of course," Bella said as she walked up to him shaking her hips and carefully placing one foot in front of the other like a tigress going for a kill. She gave him a suggestive look as she brushed her hand on Carlisle's slowly growing stubble.

"You know," Bella began, "we never got to finish what happened in the office the other day."

Carlisle said nothing but swatted Bella's hand away from his face. They shared a look until the doctor could take no more.

 _Smack!_

Carlisle had slapped her across the face. As his hand came away, Bella replaced it with her's as she rubbed the sting out of her cheek. She nearly spat on him and she would have if her mouth had not been shoved toward his.

Carlisle was kissing Bella and it was everything she'd ever wanted.

It was erotic. It was intense. It was heated as Carlisle pushed himself into the room, his lips never leaving her's as he tore at the robe and threw it on the floor. Bella tugged at his belt but her fingers were shaking far too much.

Without notice, Carlisle pushed Bella into the bed and she nearly fell onto the floor. He watched her as she propped her back using her elbows and she stared him down as he undid his belt buckle and unbuttoned his pants.

Not a single moral thought went through Carlisle's head. However, there was one thing that he kept replaying over and over about how much of a tease Bella had been for the past several weeks.

He was done with it.

He didn't want to force himself on her, but if she resisted, it was what he was condemned to do. When she didn't, Carlisle wasn't entirely sure if he was pleased with her wanting him, or hated her for taking a married man so easily.

He wasted absolutely no time between dropping his pants to the floor and crawling on top of Bella as she snaked her hands around his neck and head, holding him closer as Carlisle took Bella's lips in another intense kiss.

Bella moaned into the doctor's mouth as he shifted his weight and forced Bella to open her legs. She interlocked one of her's with the back of Carlisle's and pulled him even closer.

She needed to feel what he was like inside of her. She had to know. It was like a fire needing oxygen to blaze.

Carlisle felt Bella's skin beneath him as he brushed his left hand onto Bella's growing pregnancy bump and slid it up to rest comfortably on her breast that he squeezed. Her skin repulsed at the cold, silver band on his ring finger.

Then it happened. Carlisle's sex penetrated Bella's to which they both let out moans of weeks of built up sexual tension.

Then it was over. With the last of a few thrusts, Carlisle reached his climax and rolled away breathless and sweating. As he laid on his back, he folded his hand behind his head as Bella laid in the crook of his arm with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

"Now you have to do it," Bella thought out loud.

"Do what?" Carlisle mumbled still trying to catch his breath.

"Leave her. Leave Esme."

"Bella," Carlisle breathed, "you know there's only one woman for me."


	13. Black Ink

Hey guys! No, I am not dead, it's just been a long couple of days. A lot has happened to me and my family and as we slowly get through it, I will try and update as much as I possibly can.

Anyway, I didn't want to leave you guys for two weeks without even a single word.

Chapters might or might not come faster or slower. It depends on how I manage my stress, though I normally channel it through writing.

Thank you guys so much for patiently waiting and as always,

-Your daily dose of romance

* * *

 _Three months prior to meeting Isabella…_

The words were left unread. The pages were left unturned. The black ink remained unchanged since the day it was typed and printed. The manuscript was left without a name and only a single author for this written catalogue of his life.

At the time, the last things that were written, were words of fear. Carlisle was always a scared man concealed by the ideal of what a doctor was supposed to be.

A caring stranger.

A compassionate person.

A generous guardian.

A devoted healer.

A steady hand.

A wise doctor.

But for this reason, he was the greatest liar in history. His lie mixed in with the truth, tainting his perfect facade.

 _August 12_

 _As the long day finally draws to a close with the setting sun, I am exhausted but am unable to sleep. My face is puffy and red from crying. I have a dry throat and dry hands, a slight headache but that is nothing compared to the desire to write down absolutely everything. I want to describe the feeling of being entirely empty and entirely resolute._

 _I want to explain how I can be deeply sad and incredibly hopeful at the same time. I want to talk about holding Esme's hand and walking down the street with my child growing inside her. Of wanting to soak in the moment, to memorize the feeling of having her hand in mine, to remember what it's like to be a husband and a father to an unborn child that I fear may die like the rest. To let those moments matter, and then hating my thoughts because what if I can't hold Es's hand one day? What if I can't kiss her before I leave off to work? What if our child is lost like the others that came before?_

 _What if, one day, she leaves?_

 _What if, one day, the baby is born?_

 _It's just wishing I could just appreciate each second of loving Esme without that appreciation spilling into the pre-mourning I refuse to do, because I believe she will stay and that this child will live, but instead of fighting the brief thoughts of mourning, choosing to fight instead that lie that says that those thoughts betray some doubt, some mistrust of her, when I know that those thoughts make me human and that she knows that I am human and does not make our child's victory dependent on me never feeling unsure._

 _September 15_

 _I've lost her._

 _I've lost my Rose._

 _I've lost my child._

 _My daughter._

 _I have lost my wife._

 _Was she ever mine?_

 _I have lost myself in the lie we continued to tell ourselves because the truth is so much harder._

 _October 8_

 _I'm afraid._

 _I'm terrified._

 _This house is no longer a home to finally start out my life. It's turned into a tomb with which we hide ourselves from the rest of the world. I was already dead when I met Esme, it was only a matter of time. I am trapped by my own life that I have created in a tomb of a house that I have built to which my body has been embalmed with lies._

 _The Cullen home has become a place where we pretend to be the perfect couple. Where the world sees us as two people who love each other unconditionally. Where we pretend we're still in love and that our honeymoon phase will never truly end. But we're liars. We're lying to our neighbors, our friends, coworkers, bosses, our families, but more than any of those, ourselves…each other._

 _Esme has turned into this monster of a wife and I am no longer the confident husband she expects me to be. She used to be so caring. She used to be so loving. I want to tell her what's been eating at me for the past two years, but I can't relive that part of my life. If I do, I know it will kill me, but more than that, it will hurt Esme._

 _It's a helluva a long time to keep a secret from your wife, but some secrets can be kept for a lot longer. The lies started out small like whispers, fading and silent. Then, they slowly grew into our screams as we fought and said words that we can never take back no matter how hard we try._

 _I'm terrified of her. But what if she left? What if she no longer loved me?_

 _What then?_

 _What would she become without me?_

 _What would I be without Esme?_

 _Esme, who somewhere along the lines, went from, what she's told me, absolutely loving me, to showing that she hates me._

 _When we met, I knew I loved her. She was perfect and had everything that I would have ever wanted and needed. She had everything I didn't and I had everything she could have wanted. I don't know where that woman came from and I don't know where she's gone._

 _That woman…that was the woman I married. That was the woman I fell in love with. That was the woman I'd planned to share the rest of my life with. She's the woman I want back._

 _I still hear her saying that she loves me for the first time but every time after that, some days it sounds like she means it and others, it's a lie. When she'd first said it, it was the most perfect, fleeting few seconds of my life where everything was, what I can only describe now, as a dream but then that moment ended and I awoke into a nightmare._

 _This night terror has lasted me the past two years since Esme told me she wanted a baby. This is not my life. This is not who I am. Yes, I know that Esme has been lying to me since the day we met and I would have continued on in this fashion for the rest of our lives, but I'd made a mistake. She'd put her trust in me and I betrayed her._

 _Now, our love life is only to be given chance but I fear, we've been through too much already to even consider living the rest of our lives together. It was the sweetest when given just a glance but we never planned for anything like we're living now._

 _My best friend became an old stranger somewhere between the time I met her and when we lost the babies. We weren't the same after that. Who would be?_

 _Can I live without them? Without the children that would never be? Can I find the strength within me to live my life without them? Can Esme find it within herself to love me as passionately as she once had?_

 _We've never sat down and talked about what happened when we lost the children. Come to think of it, we never really talked about anything. I never asked her about her past like when she was a child and grew. Perhaps I'm just too afraid, or perhaps it's because I already know. When she asks about mine, I opened like a book, at least I used to anyway. Now, I change the subject completely because we both know I'm hiding something but won't tell._

 _Silence is the loudest parting word we never say. I find it harder to hide in the silence. The quiet seems as if it is more violent than the largest of storms. There's no hiding. There is no shelter from the silence that falls between two people who are lying to each other._

 _There is no distraction. There is no avoidance. There are only questions with the silence that falls and points toward the direction of the answer. And those silent answers terrify me._

 _She's smart. She's smart and she will find out. I know she will._

 _There are two things that should never go unmet lest one is lost: faith and sleep. Faith is to be awake, but to be awake means one must think, and for us to think, is to be alive._

 _Then, there is sleep. There is sleep where the body stops all movement. It stops and is buried, but as it always will, life will move on._

 _For now, my lungs fill and then exhale. I was once filled with desire. I know my time on this earth was always short but what's the point of everything else when, one day, I will be dead?_

 _Just gone._

 _My body will have stopped breathing. My heart will stop beating. My brain will stop thinking. My hands will stop moving. My eyes will stop seeing, and that's terrifying._

 _The things that I do will no longer matter. The words that I write will be the last. The things that I have begun will remain unfinished. My words will be left unsaid._

 _Everybody dies, that's true, and if so many have gone before me…what's the point?_

 _What's the point in any of it? What's the point of money if you can't take it with you? What's the point of family when they will be left mourning? What's the point in dreams if they never come true? What's the point in love when it makes what little time we are given feel so much shorter? And what's the point when it makes everything so much more complicating?_

 _I will die._

 _Someday._

 _It might be tomorrow, the next day, a month or in three years but I wouldn't know it, I'd already be dead and I wouldn't even know it was happening. So what's the point in trying to live? What's the point in surviving if I'm going to die later on? What's the point in not giving up?_

 _I'm going to die and that is, truthfully, my greatest fear._

 _But these trivial things: words, toys, books, television shows, in the end, none of it matters. In the end, what was the point? These things just keep us all entertained while we just wait to die._

 _The clock ticks every second, and time flies on by.  
_ _So what's the point while we all just wait to die?_

 _This is the oldest I'll ever be,  
_ _nothing is ever promised.  
_ _This will be the youngest-self of me._

 _What's the point in having things when you just leave them all behind?_

 _One day,_ _I'll linger too long.  
_ _I will sleep too deep  
_ _as Death approaches for my life while the rest weep._

 _One day,  
_ _everyone in the world at different times,  
_ _will stop breathing,  
_ _turn cold,  
_ _and die…_

 _I suppose that's what we're here to find out. Maybe that's it, maybe that's why we're alive. Maybe it is because, one day, we have to accept for each of us, there won't be a 'one day' anymore. There won't be a tomorrow._

 _Maybe that's why we're all just wondering about._

 _Maybe that's the answer._

 _And if Esme and I continue on in our patterns of self-destruction, one of us will wind up dead and I'm pretty sure it's going to be me._

 _October 13_

 _She yelled at me to stop. I persisted and she would come to hate me for it. As the future unraveled into the present, I find I cannot help but live in the past of when I'd become anything less than a man._

 _"_ _I'm scared," I told her. "I am being torn apart and I can't stop it."_

 _"_ _No, honey…" Esme mumbled as she took my face in her hands. She forced my averted, albeit, drunk-induced foggy gaze back to meet her crystal, tear-filled eyes._

 _Only, it wasn't Esme's face I saw._

 _The face in front of me cast the same oblong, shadowed features as Bella. The mere idea of my face in her hands scared me beyond reprieve and, in my drunken state, pushed her down the stairs to be rid of the tempting seductress._

 _It was only after I watched her tumble heels over head, did I see the woman's real face._

 _Her body lay lifeless at the foot of the stairs but her hair remained in it's natural position behind Esme's shoulders. Before the connection even registered, I was running down the stairs because I was not the type of person to push another down the stairs, at least, I thought I wasn't._

 _I didn't touch her. I just stood in awe and amazement at the terrible deed I had just committed against my wife._

 _"_ _You fucking asshole," Esme mumbled as she picked her head up and wiped the dribbling blood coming from her nose. She moved from laying prone to managing a crawl to the first step that led to the second story where she sat herself while I did nothing but stare._

 _I watched as her head shifted lazily to one side and back to the other like a baby's. She folded her arms in front of her chest and brought her legs closer, curling herself into a small ball almost to protect herself from me._

 _"_ _I hate you…" she whispered behind broken sobs as her head rested against her knees._

 _Behind every lie, there is always some measure of truth._

 _Even still, I wanted for nothing but to pick her up and take what I had done from her._

 _But, I can't. Not any of it._


	14. Baby Girl

Hey guys! I wanted to thank you all for the love and support you've given me and my family and I want you to know that everything is fine.

I should mention for continuity purposes, I'm deviating away from Carlisle's cannon age and making him ten years older than Esme. So in the book, Esme's twenty-six and so that would mean Carlisle is thirty-six in this story. It is a little older than I'd like but it was the only way I could make it work. But I needed to make him older because who the hell is working as a full-time doctor at the age of twenty-three? Unless, of course, you're a vampire whose been around for the past few centuries...

Anyway, as always,

-Your daily dose of romance

P.S. I stole one of the pen-names of one of you lovely readers whose been reading this story since it was first published and has left a review with just about every chapter starting from the fifth one. Hope you don't mind but I love the name and I worked it into the story.

If you don't like me using it, just let me know and I can take it down as quickly as possible.

* * *

Esme laid in the hospital bed and stared out the soaked window with an untiring gaze. She watched as rain fell and continuously tapped at the pane of glass.

"Suppose I'd better get used of the hospital. I'm going to be spending way more time here with the cancer..." she sighed though she already knew the hospital almost as well as the back of her hand. She visited Carlisle on more than one occasion where she simply dropped something off, but most of the time she just wanted to see him. Now, she couldn't even bare the thought of him and the fact that not three days ago, he stood in the hallway and lied to one of his best friends. Whatever bruises she wasn't given by the crib, she received from Carlisle. She remembered only two things: being in the middle of the stairs and then not.

"What has he's been lying to me about?" As she said these words aloud, it was with reluctance, Esme's thoughts intertwined with her past as she thought about her own lies.

* * *

 _Twenty years ago…_

"My baby girl's first communion," the dark-haired, lanky man exclaimed in his thick Italian accent as his daughter stood next to him after having received the Eucharist. Her tiny smile was widened across her rosy cheeks and shone through her twinkling, hazel eyes complemented by her white, fluffy dress.

"Now," the little girl's father began, "you will have Gesù inside of you always. He will protect you when I cannot."

"What about you Papa?" The little girl asked innocently.

"My soul has been lost for a long time. There is no religion in which God will accept my soul," the father explained under mournful tones hidden and, therefore, lost behind his eyes.

He's learned to lie. He's had to. This life he now lives has been thrust upon him just as his own father had, and therefore, upon his daughter. He has kept a close circle of family, for blood is thicker than water. His life is a lie, covered by a name with which the Platt family had created.

A name that has not gone without recognition to the family: Volturi. Both, dangerous families. Both scared of the other, like the night before the battle with the following war, where families of both will bleed.

Where families of both are just waiting for an anxious triggerman with a single bullet to fire on either. The head of house await upon the thrones they have built on both sides.

In this case, Aro Volturi and the little girl's father, Giovanni. And so, out of fear, Aro forged an alliance with the Platt family, promising power and more money than could ever be spent. Giovanni knew of the Volturi family.

He knew the prospects they had created for themselves and he knew what Aro asked of Giovanni's family was not up for debate. Though it was never said, Aro threatened the Platt family and, it was with reluctance, Esme's father had agreed.

She didn't know it then, but Esme would carry this with her for the rest of her life.

 _"_ _My soul has been lost for a long time. There is no religion in which God will accept my soul."_

She would carry what her father had said until the day she died, but for now, she was a little girl without the knowledge of her father's life and why her mother was always seemed to be so sick, but little did any of them know, that would all change.

"I wanted momma to see me. I wanted her to be proud," Esme explained with sadness in her tone.

"I know darling," her father said as he picked up the little girl and rested her on his hip, trying his best to comfort his Esme under her times of distress.

"I wish she could be here too," Giovanni said with absolute honesty in his words.

"Hello, Little Farfalla!" A booming, jolly, accent exclaimed.

"Uncle 'Renso!" Esme giggled as she jumped out of her father's arms. Giovanni smiled as he watched his daughter, with her inability to pronounce "Lorenzo" correctly, as she jumped into the open arms of his brother.

"So? My Little Farfalla, what did you think?" The thick accented, thick haired, thick man, asked as he set her down and opted to kneel in front of her. Esme had stolen his knee to use as a seat with her uncle's arms securing her in place.

"About what?" Esme asked as she fiddled with the ribbon tied onto the front of her dress.

" _About what_ …" Lorenzo mocked, "Little Farfalla, receiving the Eucharist?"

"Oh," the little girl chirped, "It tasted weird."

"Weird?" Lorenzo prompted.

"You know the purple juice that the give to you?" Esme asked.

"Yes?"

"It was awful!"

"Ah," Lorenzo nodded in agreement, "I know."

Just then, the rest of Esme's family had conglomerated around her and began to ask the young girl questions and give her the congratulations she would carry for the rest of her life.

This was the moment the little girl, Esme Anne Platt, would be lost and replaced with someone who looked exactly like her, who spoke with the same words and years later, would grow into the woman known as Esme Anne Cullen.

A few minutes later, Esme, her father and Lorenzo, had packed everyone into the cars with the desire to head back home and celebrate little Esme's first communion as the act itself was something of a rite within the Platt family.

For the one whom went through with this rite learned the secrets of their family. After today, everything changed for the child would see the world with eyes that had been passed down for three generations.

Then one day, Giovanni's daughter, Lorenzo's 'Little Farfalla', would commit a crime so terrible, it would force their family traditions in new directions.

No one knew it then, but the crime Esme was to commit had already been done.

Yes, she would learn about the secrets, but she would not be taught like Giovanni had been.

She would never have to carry the burden her father, her grand-father, or her great-grand-father had carried.

She would escape but at the cost of her father's freedom and the cost of her childhood. A childhood she promised to give her own daughter or son one day. She would give them the one thing she herself could never have.

Esme had never known hunger for her family was one of the wealthiest on the western side of the country. She had never known sadness, the amount of toys and constant family made for the beginnings of a trivial childhood, hiding the perfect lie behind an, although large, but seemingly perfect family. She had not known hurt, her father protected her as if she were his own soul, and that very idea, was the crime Esme had unknowingly committed.

Her father protected her and in turn, she gave him something no one else could: her love, and Giovanni loved his daughter.

He was willing to risk his life, like all parents are. He was willing to endure absolute torture if only to protect his child. He was willing to sacrifice anything and everyone to ensure his daughter's future was secured and in the best possible position for anything and Giovanni thought he'd had planned for everything.

But there was one thing he hadn't counted on and it was slouched over on the now cracked glass table, as the heap sat on the couch of their family home. It's hair was matted and sweaty, as drops of blood and vomit slowly became a pool as it streaked down from her lips and onto the no longer clear glass.

Her arms spread out as one was twisted and the other wore a tight, blue band just above the elbow, blocking the blood flow to the forearm that turned a sickly blue as needle points bulged out from the freckled skin littered with purple bruises.

Her body convulsed as she watched behind unfocused eyes, the image of her daughter walking through the door with Giovanni.

"Momma?" The little girl asked, like the song of an angel that led the mother away from her body. Throughout those few milliseconds she was offered, Esme's mother watched as her life played before her within the blink of an eye.

Esme's mother saw how she'd met Giovanni. He was quite dapper, his hair was slicked back, his suit was neatly pressed and he wore an expensive gold watch that would later be passed down to their daughter, but it would not be her father to give her the watch. It would be her uncle, Lorenzo.

Esme's mother saw her wedding day through eyes that were not her own. She saw a marriage that started out loving and carefree as the new couple used recreational drugs, a habit that would eventually kill her.

She saw the wrong-doing she committed against her new family and she saw the wrong-doing she committed against a fetus that grew into a baby that was born into a world were drugs were a common household item. Drugs that a little, baby girl would be born addicted to.

Esme's mother saw herself using these drugs more and becoming dependent upon these. She snorted cocaine. She injected herself with heroine. She saw herself using alcohol as a coping mechanism for what her life had become.

Nothing.

"Momma!" Esme screamed.

"Lorenzo, take Esme out of here!" Giovanni hollered as he ran to the woman whom he barely considered his wife, for she was simply the mother of his child. Lorenzo grabbed Esme by her hips, picked her up and held her against his side.

"Come on Little Farfalla," Lorenzo said as he rushed out of the house and into the warm summer's day.

Though there was not a single cloud in the bright, blue sky, the world turned a dark grey as though someone had placed a piece of plastic on a lens that were Esme's eyes. The bird's song stopped. The cars whistled away with a sound the little girl could not hear.

"Let us go to the park now, huh?" He tried through a tight, sad smile. He knelt over to release her from his arms but she stayed put.

"Momma…" Esme mumbled with tear-filled eyes as she heard her father hollering her mother's name.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You. Having to see that."

Esme said nothing else as they walked along the sidewalk as an ambulance drove by and when Esme turned her head to watch as it stopped outside of her home, Lorenzo walked further and faster and turned the corner blocking her view of the spectacle.

He'd hoped she might forget. He'd hoped that she might think it was all a dream. He hoped that she might even repress it if nothing else.

He hoped his Little Farfalla would remain his Little Farfalla but it was all in vein.

She would remember and what little she saw would change her forever.

* * *

She'd been lying down for hours now. It was nearing four-thirty in the morning and there was nothing Esme could do. She laid in the hospital bed with the stiff, starchy sheets and heavy yarn blanket that scratched at her skin. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and she felt her hospital gown sticking to her skin, but she dared not move.

She pretended to be asleep, but her eyes remained open. The bathroom light was on and the door left ajar as it cast it's lighting on the floor to be used as a nightlight. The light shone directly into Esme's eyes as she continued to unblinkingly stare out the window that had dried as the rain stopped several hours ago.

The worst part about her situation was, she was in the same room as her mother. Of course, she didn't know it was a hallucination but Esme's mother stared at her, propped against the corner of the wall.

Every time Esme looked back with just a glance of her eyes, she couldn't help not wanting to cry or scream.

Esme's mother's dead eyes were focused on her with her mouth hung wide open. There was a song smell of blood and antiseptic in the air and Esme felt so terrified it paralyzed her with fear.

But the worst part of her situation was the second she made any hint that she was not asleep, Esme would be cheated out of her innocence by her mother once again.

Esme heard the beeps from the machines she was attached to: a heart monitor, an oxygen monitor and other things Esme wouldn't bother herself with but they were attached to her. Her arm laid straight as she felt the catheter from her I.V. in the vein of her slightly bruised arm were the needles punctured her skin.

She couldn't even look at her arm. Needles didn't terrify Esme, but it was the fact that Esme had seen nearly the same things on her mother's arms the day she died.

And she couldn't move.

There was help that would come at the press of a button attached to the bed that rested itself next to Esme's head and still, she dared not move. She could have bolted out of the room tearing the medical equipment away from her skin. She could have run.

She could have left, but she decided to stay, not for her own sake but for that of Carlisle's.

She promised herself that if she left, she would never see him again and so continued on Esme's longest night. A night that had lasted her the past twenty years.


	15. Homecoming King

Hey guys! I am soooooo sorry that this chapter took forever even though it isn't that long but it is inarguably one of the most important chapters so far in this story.

Thanks for sticking with me even though I've been away for a really long time.

As always,

-Your daily dose of romance.

P.S. The plot thickens. You'll see why, but I ask you to please not post any spoilers down in the reviews!

* * *

 _Twenty years ago…_

"Carlisle! Come on, we've got to get going!"

"I know, give me a sec!" He called from the stoop of his parents' home as he slipped his feet into his sneakers.

"Why, don't you look all gussied up."

"Thanks, Vic," Carlisle blushed as he walked down the steps and toward his car.

"You look…" he began as he eyed the red head in front of him. Her normally, tightly curled, blazing hair was left down and completely straight. She wore a light, blue dress that complemented her lithe frame and matched Carlisle's bow down to the dye.

"…amazing," he breathed as he slipped a white corsage on her left wrist.

"Carlisle, you have no idea whether I look amazing or not," she teased as she laced the fingers of her hand between his as they walked over to Carlisle's car.

"You've done a thing with…with you hair," he tried.

"Thank you though, sweet of you to try," she joked as he opened the passenger door for her. "Why, what a gentleman," she joked. It was a thing they did, go back and fourth to see who could make the other blush more. More often than not, it was Victoria who made Carlisle blush.

As they drove to their high school gym, they blasted music from the radio and sang along as loud as they could. When phrases of the lyrics were unsung, they danced along, flailing their arms as much as physically able within the small, but fairly expensive car.

Within minutes they reached their high school homecoming dance and as Carlisle drove by looking for a place to park, there were dance goers dressed to the nines. When he put the car in park and cut the engine, the two sat there for a bit as they watched fellow classmates walk into the door of the gym.

"Vic?" Carlisle asked not daring to look at her for fear that his words might be lost as he looked into the eyes of his first love.

"Yeah?" She mumbled as she turned her gaze to meet his broad frame.

"There's something I…something I want…" he tried.

"Yeah?" She pressed in such a way she did not disregard Carlisle.

"…something I want to say, but I'm not sure how."

"We both know I can speak 'Carlisle'. Try me," she teased lightly.

"I'm serious," he said though the joking smile on his face nearly begged a differ.

"You can tell me," Victoria assured. At those words, Carlisle turned his face toward her's and blushed a deep red but his smiled stayed, complementing the rest of his features.

"I meant what I said. You really do look amazing."

Victoria's actions spoke louder than words as she leaned in and placed a chaste, yet loving kiss on his lips.

"Come on, we've got a couple of crowns to win," Vic told him as she reached for the door handle.

"I'll catch up in a bit, but I'll see you inside."

"Okay, just don't take forever and don't get caught. You remember what happened last time Mr. Banner caught you guys," Vic warned as they climbed out of the car.

"I know, we'll try not," Carlisle smiled and shot her a wink. Victoria gave him another quick kiss and a small squeeze around his midsection and turned to walk into the gym. Carlisle hated to see her go but he loved to watch her leave.

Instead of following her inside, he turned in the opposite direction and walked toward the side of the building. He heard the voices of his friends as he rounded the corner and smelled a familiar smoke waft through the air.

"Excuse me," Carlisle began as he spoke in his best authoritative voice, "what are you boys doing?"

"Shit! Shit!" He heard Eleazar whisper as there was a quick scuttle as several boys tried their best to hide their contraband.

"God damnit, Carlisle!" Laurent exclaimed annoyed when their friend emerged from the shadows.

"Did I get you?" Carlisle asked as he was handed a flask that Eleazar had stolen from his father a few hours before.

"Damn well gave me a heart attack!" Laurent joked as Carlisle took a quick swig and handed it off to Alistair who gave him a glass pipe and lighter. Carlisle put it to his lips, held the choke, and lit the front end of the bowl. He inhaled and held it in for a few seconds before blowing smoke circles from out of his mouth.

"I really have to quit this shit…" he said as he expertly passed the pipe and lighter in one hand.

"You always say that. Every time we smoke you say that," Eleazar said as he took a hit from the pipe and passed it on.

"It's better than smoking crack or some other shit!" Laurent joked.

"Yeah, it's just weed. It's not like it's going to kill you."

"I suppose your right. Plus, if it was just you three losers, you'd miss me too much," Carlisle joked as he was passed back the flask after it had made a complete circle amongst the four boys.

They stood there for nearly ten minutes, joking around and passing the pipe and flask back and fourth until the flask was empty and Eleazar replaced it in the lining of his tuxedo jacket.

"Hey," Laurent began, "did you guys hear about that one guy?"

"Who?" Alistair asked after handing the pipe off to Carlisle.

"His name was Johnny Plate or something like that."

"Wait, wait, wait…who the hell is named 'Johnny Plate'?" Carlisle asked before his took another hit from the pipe.

"I don't know. What the hell was his name?" Before anyone could answer, Laurent continued, "Anyway, you guys know that rich bitch Volturi?" Laurent asked as he mocked the last name.

"Yeah? Doesn't our guy get his weed from him?" Eleazar asked.

"Yeah, but did you guys know that he's in jail?"

"For what?"

"I don't know man, maybe it's because he's one of the biggest known drug lords this side of the North American continent?" Laurent mocked at the obviousness.

"Damn. What...he get...caught or something?" Carlisle asked between coughs into his elbow sleeve.

"Yeah. Turns out he was screwed over by someone from the inside. They ratted him out."

"Really?"

"Damn, that sucks. Remind me to never get into the drug business. It's out." Carlisle said as he handed the pipe off to Alistair who then proceeded to clean out the ash and hide it beneath a few rocks.

"Anyway, guys ready?"

"This night is going to be fucking epic!"

"Damn right!" Eleazar laughed as they walked around the building and toward the entrance. By the time the boys had found their girlfriends, Carlisle was already a little dizzy from the alcohol coupled with the effects of the marijuana.

"Hello ladies," Carlisle exclaimed as his walked up and held Victoria close as she stood next to a few of her girlfriends.

"Hey Carlisle. Do you know where Eleazar is?" One of Victoria's friends, and Eleazar's date asked as she searched the crowd.

"No idea, somewhere…"

"Have fun?" Vic asked as Carlisle distractingly nibbled on her ear.

"Way more fun now…" he whispered in a husky voice. Though they were surrounded by a large group of people, it felt like it was just the two of them. It felt like it would always be the two of them.

The group which later consisted of: Carlisle, Victoria, Eleazar, Laurent, Alistair and their girlfriends danced the night away, joked, laughed and when their own drinks ran dry, Eleazar would covertly run out to his car and refill the flask to the brim to be enjoyed by everyone within their circle of friends.

Eventually, the festivities paused and Carlisle and Victoria were crowned homecoming king and queen after which the dance resumed. The two left before the dance ended and drove around town. Though they had been drinking, Carlisle was always the best driver so he figured they'd be fine.

"What now?" He asked as they continued to drive around in large circles spanning the entirety of the suburban town of Forks.

"We could go to my house. My parents are still out of town," Victoria suggested.

"Okay, sounds good," Carlisle said as he made an illegal U-turn and headed back down the street they were driving.

When they pulled up to Vic's house, the night was dead quiet save for the trees rustling in the wind and a distant owl's hoot. All the lights were off as they strolled up to the house as Victoria unlocked the door with a key her family kept hidden on top of the porch light.

As Victoria let them both in, both teens were having a bit of fun as Carlisle squeezed her side and she let out a small giggle. He kissed her as he closed the door while Victoria reached around him, feeling the wall for the light switch. She flicked on the light and broke the kiss as she led him by the hand and into the house. They walked into the kitchen and Victoria took out two wine glasses and stole a bottle of wine from her parents' stores.

"Wow," Carlisle began as he watched her pour, "guess we're pulling out all the stops tonight aren't we, my Queen?"

"Of course, anything for the Homecoming King," she winked as she slid one of the glasses over the counter. Carlisle picked up the glass and followed her out into the living room where a small table lamp sat alight as Victoria took a seat on the couch.

Carlisle plopped down next to her with his arm resting comfortably on the backrest after which Victoria took the opportunity to curl up next to him.

Little did Carlisle know that night would be the last he saw of Victoria until years later and even littler did he know, that night, Victoria would become the mother of his child. A child Carlisle would only ever catch a glimpse of as his son climbed into the back of police cruiser as he held a crying, bruised Bella in his arms.


	16. Walk Away

Hey guys! This chapter may come as a bit of a surprise to some as I'm sure most of you believed that I would stop updating for this story. No I haven't abandoned it and yes, it will eventually be completed though I'm not sure how long that's going to be.

This chapter is shorter than the rest but as this story would seem that it is wayyyyyy more confusing than I thought it would be as it has several different plot lines, its getting harder and harder to find the right words to write and convey what I, as the author, expect of myself.

As always,

-Your daily dose of romance

I forgot how good it feels to write that.

P.S. this chapter is based off the song: _Carnival of Rust_ by Poets of the Fall.

* * *

 _One day before…_

 _"Carlisle I do know you. I know you'd never do anything to hurt Esme. I was just concerned because neither of you seem like yourselves."_

 _"How can we? She's dying, we've got a baby on the way, and I'm suffering from a bit of alcoholism," Carlisle explained shamefully as both his hand and his head dropped in unison._

 _"Are you?" Brett asked worriedly. "We have treatment programs…" he began._

 _"No," Carlisle stopped him before he could continue. "No. We'll get it under control," he said though he knew it wouldn't be fixed, only ignored. "Things have just kind of been everywhere lately."_

 _"Well, okay. You know any time you need a friend, I'm here."_

 _"Yeah, I know," Carlisle gave Brett a small, sorrowful smile. "Thanks."_

 _"Esme's awake, if you want to talk to her."_

 _Carlisle said nothing but gave a small nod of his head still unsure about everything. Though he was unsure, he breathed in a sigh to steel himself and made his way into Esme's room. As he walked in, he was confronted with her laying frame with her hands folded as neatly as her injuries would allow._

 _"_ _Carlisle," Esme began before he had a chance, "I want you to do something. For me."_

 _"_ _What?" Carlisle asked unsure of what to do. He didn't know whether to stand, or join Esme on the bed, or if his presence was even welcome in the room._

 _"_ _I want you to take Bella to the cottage," Esme mumbled before she could completely think over what she'd just said and retract her preposition._

 _"_ _Why?" Carlisle asked going to stand next to her._

 _"_ _I can't tell you."_

 _"_ _NO!" He nearly yelled as he towered over his wife like a statue, pale yet, slightly trembling. Perhaps he was showing symptoms of alcohol withdrawals._

 _"_ _Please," Esme recoiled but stood her ground being as patient as she could, "Just listen. I think it's been…I think we've both seen this coming. I'm sick. I'm sick, and you've already been shopping for a replacement wife and who better than her?" She knew her line of thinking was incredibly stupid and if the quiet plan she concocted failed, it would result in either her own death, that of her husband's, or even that of their unborn child's._

 _"_ _Where's this coming from?" Carlisle asked running his fingers though his hair as he thought about the idea of Bella. He pushed her out of his mind and back to the conversation at hand._

 _"_ _I know that she's not the first woman to have caught your attention since we've been married. I know that," Esme sighed._

 _She knew the truth._

 _She knew the one lie that Carlisle did his best to conceal. She knew the truth about what he had done, about Carlisle's single most terrible regret._

 _He held his breath and as Esme stared him down, he looked away unable to meet her gaze that silently seemed almost murderous._

 _He was afraid of her though he knew she was in no condition to pick a fight._

 _It was here and now, everything was being laid out on the table. All the lies, all the distrust, everything. Carlisle had planned this moment out in his head, what he would say, what excuses he would make, what other lies he might tell, but his tongue fumbled for words._

 _She knew his lie._

 _"_ _Esme…" Carlisle tried._

 _"_ _Tell me one thing," she interrupted, "and be absolutely honest, please?"_

 _"_ _Anything."_

 _"_ _Am I wrong in thinking that you've been unfaithful to our marriage and that you've been unfaithful to me since we met?" Esme asked staring Carlisle down for any hint of a lie she thought was sure to come. Whether he denied it or not, she knew. She knew and whether or not his next answer came as lie, was going to break her heart but she needed to know. She needed to know that her deepest fear was, in fact, true._

 _The one person Esme trusted implicitly had betrayed her._

 _"_ _Es…I…" Carlisle tried but his stutter seemed to be resurfacing._

 _"_ _How many?"_

 _When he didn't answer, she asked again, "How many?"_

 _"_ _Just one," Carlisle sighed as his gaze dropped to the floor in shame. He loved Esme, there was no denying it. He truly did love her, and yet, he'd betrayed her in the most unforgivable way possible._

 _"_ _Was she the red-head I met at our wedding?" Esme asked turning her gaze toward the window too disgusted to even look at Carlisle._

 _"_ _Yes," he mumbled, feeling awkward about not only his stance that made his body suddenly seem heavy but also simply his presence in the room. He felt as though he didn't belong there. He felt as though he was a doctor trespassing into a patient's room and that her real husband could walk though the door any second._

 _"_ _She's pretty."_

 _Carlisle said nothing but walked over to a chair placed in the corner and sat down with his hands once again raking through his blond, throughly tousled, hair._

 _"_ _I trusted you," Esme whimpered as a single tear slid down her pale cheek. "I gave you everything."_

 _"_ _No!" Carlisle nearly yelled, but kept his voice low enough that no one passing by could hear as he felt his blood boil in rage at Esme's lie. "You didn't. You never did. If you did, you would have told me about your father."_

 _"_ _How do you know that?" Esme asked as she snapped her head back to look at the man who'd betrayed her just as she betrayed him but under different circumstances._

 _"_ _I've always known," Carlisle answered simply, "but I wanted to hear it come from your lips. I wanted you to tell me. You don't know how many times I needed you to tell me just so we could have gotten everything out in the open. Of course I could only assume that the man the put Aro Volturi away was someone from the inside of his drug network. Someone who wanted out._

 _"_ _I know everything. I followed the trials just like everyone else. Suppose it's only fitting that I marry the daughter of a crime lord and a mother who died of an overdose. Suppose it's only fitting that the man his daughter marries is an unfaithful doctor with a surrogate who fell in love with him," Carlisle sneered as he stared Esme down, both with tears in their eyes, both daring the other to blink them away._

 _"_ _Love does some pretty crazy shit like that, doesn't it?" Esme asked as she shook her head with a smile gracing her face but her smile was anything but blissful. In fact, it was filled with absolute hate but she knew, somewhere deep down inside, she was still madly in love with Carlisle despite his trespasses._

 _"_ _What do we do now?" He mumbled. "Can we trust each other?"_

 _"_ _I don't know. How do we get past something like this? A marriage based on lies," Esme said as she dropped her head onto the uncomfortably fluffy pillow behind her but still stared Carlisle down._

 _"_ _I don't know. We tried to be heroes. We tried to keep something alive that never existed but all it's done is turn our love to despair and created liars out of both of us."_

 _"_ _It just depends on if we're willing to let it die."_

 _"_ _Are you willing to walk away now?" Carlisle asked as he laced his fingers together._

 _"_ _Are you?"_

 _Neither said anything._

 _Esme did not blink, nor did Carlisle._

 _Carlisle did not stand to leave and Esme didn't want him to._

 _They stared each other down as they silently thought about what they were going to do. Not only about their marriage, but about their unborn child and about the woman whom carried that child._

 _They were quiet until Carlisle broke the silence._

 _"Do you think it's possible for two people to be in love and still not be happy?"_

 _Esme did not answer as she thought about her husband's words._

* * *

 _Present…_

"Bella?" Carlisle asked shaking her out of her small, blissful slumber as she lay curled next to him.

"Hum?" She mumbled as a simple smile graced her face.

"Run away with me," he blurted out, as Bella's head shot up at hearing the words.

"What?" She asked half-wanting to believe in what he told her but half-thinking he was lying. She could not believe what she was indeed hearing as it was not like Carlisle. He was responsible but in this moment he was reckless and she could not make absolutely certain what he said was of his own ideas.

"You heard me," Carlisle interrupted Bella's train of thought. "Let's run away. You and me."

"What?" Bella asked again to make absolutely certain what he said was not coming from one of her own delusions.

"Let's go!" Carlisle exclaimed having gained enough confidence in the idea after having repeated his suggestion.

"Where would we go?" Bella asked sitting up, pulling the comforter to her bare breasts and starring down at Carlisle's laying, bare chested body. His naked hips and legs only covered by the bed spread of his and Esme's bed.

"I bought a little cottage for Esme. A wedding gift. She never uses it."

"Okay," Bella said quickly agreeing to the idea as soon as she knew what he said was real. "Where is it?"

"It's perched up right next to some cliffs along La Push. It's quiet but it's only a few hours drive back into town."

"Really?" Bella asked excited about the idea.

"Yeah. We could go there now," Carlisle suggested. Bella said nothing but instead gave a quick nod of her head when suddenly she felt something in the pit of her stomach like butterflies that grew as it might when one rode on a rollercoaster.

"Whoah…" she mumbled as she brought her hand to rest where the baby would be.

"Bella?" Carlisle asked quickly, having noticed her sudden changes.

"I think he's decided he wants to go for a swim."

"What?"

Bella snatched Carlisle's hand and led it to the lower part of her stomach.

"He's moving around in there. That's you're little baby," Bella said as she gave Carlisle a quick peck on the lips as she stared into his pale green eyes. She gave him a second one as he simply sat there and received them still cradling the child that grew inside.

Bella's quick kisses turned into lingering ones as her eyes fluttered closed and Carlisle's hands reached around her body to pull her onto his laying frame. Bella's straddled him as her kisses broke and she trailed them down his chin and neck.

"Bella…" Carlisle mumbled when his lips were free.

"Hmm?" She asked as she continued to kiss nearly every inch of Carlisle's body.

"Let's go…it's about time we start our lives together."


End file.
